Phaeton
by cjh4ever
Summary: One of the series of Looking for Ianto in All the Wrong Places stories. After CoE, Jack has gone looking for his soul mate, another Ianto Jones in another reality. This time, he finds himself on a space freighter in the 41st century.
1. Chapter 1

_This is inspired by, and follows on from, Looking For Ianto in All the Wrong Places by Tylluan. After the events in Children of Earth, Jack has been given a way to locate Ianto Jones in alternate realities in the hope of finding one who will make his life complete once more. My thanks to Tylluan for the inspiration and encouragement._

* * *

**Phaeton**

Chapter One

Jack staggered and fell as he emerged from the time portal and shook his head to clear it. Even a seasoned time traveller like himself was disorientated and needed a moment to recover from the molecular transformation inherent in the process. Unfortunately, on this occasion he didn't get that moment.

A fist connected with his chin and Jack fell sideways and down, hands flying up to protect his head. He banged his right elbow viciously on metal and cried as pain shot through his arm. Was it broken? He had no time to find out as a boot connected with his right hip, the one on which he was lying, and he collided with more metal, this time walls. Another kick, to the kidneys for variety, added to the pain. Then a heavy weight pinned him down and a final blow above the left ear brought blackness and oblivion.

He came round some indeterminate time later. He cracked open an eye and found he was lying on a bunk in a cabin. The ceiling and walls were metal, thick and dull and dirty with patched seams where the sheets of metal joined. Dim lighting came from a band running around the cabin close to the ceiling. It took him a moment to recognise the distant but constant thrum of engines then he had it, a dual-core black crystal drive. One that needed tuning. So he was in a cabin on a ship, a spaceship. And not one of the luxury liners or space yachts, a working vessel. A freighter. Slowly, Jack sat up. His body was completely recovered from the earlier assault but he flexed his right arm a time or two to work out the kinks of lying awkwardly; he had evidently been thrown onto the bunk and left to live or die.

Propped against the wall, he surveyed the cabin. A standard three metres wide by three metres long cube, it was Spartan in the extreme. The walls, floor and ceiling were all of the same extruded metal welded and riveted together. The bunk ran down one side, bolted to the wall and floor and with only a thin mattress and one malodorous blanket. On the other side of the cabin was a comfort station that smelt, not overpowering at present but the promise was there. There were no portholes and just the one door which was completely blank on this side, no handle and no release. With a sigh, Jack realised he was in a brig. Again.

He was also naked. Completely naked, even his watch and wrist strap had been removed. Someone was taking no chances. Resigned to his situation, Jack wrapped the blanket round himself for warmth and lay on his back. There was nothing he could do to better his condition, he had to wait for someone to come to him. He closed his eyes and wondered what the Ianto of this reality was doing here.

-ooOoo-

The door to his prison banged open, hitting the frame of the bunk and rattling Jack's teeth. "Get up." A man stood over him. A large human man with a massive upper torso on which was set a small bullet head. He was dressed in coarse fabric coveralls with a leather sleeveless tunic over the top, both of which were torn and stained.

"Sure." Jack smiled up at his captor and threw aside the blanket before standing. The man was a good twenty centimetres taller than him. "Time for afternoon tea?" His stomach was grumbling and he figured he had been captive for some hours.

The man looked at him curiously before snorting in derision. A beefy hand gripped Jack's upper left arm and he was propelled out of the cabin and along a corridor which joined another wider one. Jack took in everything around him as he was pushed along. The floor was a rough grating that hurt his feet. Pipes ran along the ceiling, hanging down at odd angles and liable to catch unwary passers-by. Luckily his captor avoided these out of long practice. Everything had a coating of grease; he could feel it beneath his feet and when he brushed against a wall. Airtight bulkhead doors spaced at regular intervals confirmed they were on a spaceship even before he caught a glimpse of stars outside a rare porthole. He was taken up three levels, climbing steps obviously designed for humans. Definitely a freighter, he concluded, from the forty-first century or thereabouts from the design. Probably hauling a bulk cargo of minerals - a high volume low profit trade - from the outer colonies to the more advanced centre of the Human Empire.

His speculations ended when they reached the Bridge. This area was better maintained, a large semi-circular space with half a dozen workstations only three of which were manned. There was no sign of Ianto. Jack did not have time to investigate in more detail as he was pushed forward to stand in front of a yellow-skinned man sprawled in the raised captain's chair.

"This is him, sir," said Jack's captor. He was a looming presence close behind Jack.

The captain sniffed, looking Jack up and down. Jack took the opportunity to do the same with the captain. Young, around thirty, and handsome he was dressed in standard spacer coveralls but these were clean, neat and well-fitting. A logo for the Hyperion Corporation was emblazoned on his right breast, a flash of orange and yellow on the dark green coveralls. It meant nothing to Jack.

"What are you doing here? How did you get on board?" asked the captain in a higher than expected voice that detracted from the air of authority he was trying to convey.

"I'm a traveller. Got caught up in some anomaly or other and ended up here." He shrugged. "Where am I exactly?"

The captain smiled, a smug smile. "You think I'm going to fall for that? Try again."

"It's the truth." Jack felt a rush of air behind him and moved to duck the blow that was coming but didn't quite manage it. The fist missed his head and thumped into his shoulder instead. Jack went down on one knee, banging into the side of the nearest workstation. He stayed down, making more of the blow than needed. He was dragged back to his feet.

The captain was standing too – he was shorter than Jack by a head - and had moved to the side where Jack's clothes were piled. He gingerly picked through them. "What's this?" He held up the wrist strap.

"A personal scanner." This was true as far as it went. The vortex manipulator may not work but there were many other functions that did and one of these was the scanner. "Not that I need it to hear the crack in your crystal." As he had moved through the ship, the whine had increasingly set Jack's teeth on edge. "Someone do the clamps up too tight?"

The captain shot a glance to the left where a grizzled veteran sat at the engineering station. The air crackled with tension, obviously Jack had hit a nerve. The captain and engineer stared at one another until the latter looked away, cowed into submission. "How did you know that?" The captain was once again focussed on Jack.

"The screech. Can't you hear it?"

"Of course I can!" The captain flung the wrist strap down on top of Jack's clothes. "You think I don't notice something that's keeping us at half speed?" The tone revealed the man's insecurity and Jack filed it away. Was this his first trip in command? If so he'd be desperate for help but unwilling to ask for it. This was an opening Jack could exploit if he played his cards right.

"It needs trimming."

The captain exchanged another glance with the engineer but both looked dubious. "And you can do that?"

Jack shrugged and crossed his arms over his bare chest. If the captain had thought keeping him naked would put Jack at a disadvantage he was wrong, Jack had no such hang-ups and was quite content if a bit chilly. He waited for the captain to continue, watching the hope flare behind the dark eyes.

The engineer broke the silence. "You can't let him loose on the engine," he protested. "We don't know who he is. He could be a saboteur for all we know. Maybe Kendal sent him."

"And maybe she got to you!" snapped the captain. He hated being contradicted by the more experienced members of his crew which made him even more willing to trust the stranger. "You're the one who cracked the crystal and added four weeks to the trip!"

"I told you, the crystal was flawed -"

"So you say." The captain turned back to Jack, taking a step forward to stand closer. "I need top speed. Can you do that?"

Jack met the captain's gaze steadily. "I don't know, not until I've seen your set-up. Even if I can trim it, you'll probably not get 100% but it'd be close." He paused. "At worst it'd be better than what you've got now."

Without taking his gaze from Jack, the captain said, "Feugard, show him the drive. See what he can do."

"This is madness," protested Feugard, the engineer.

"I gave you an order." The gaze was directed at the engineer now. "Kloss, go with them."

"Yes, sir." The large man standing behind Jack grabbed his upper arm and made to pull him away.

"Wait. Here." The captain tossed Jack's clothes across to land on the floor in front of him. "Get dressed."

Bending, Jack sorted the clothes quickly and donned underwear, trousers, shirt and boots. The greatcoat he draped over his arm. Left on the side were the wrist strap, watch, his wallet, mobile and other personal effects and, perhaps most importantly, the wand that would open the portal and get him out of this reality. No point making a big play for it yet, it wasn't going anywhere. "I'll need the scanner."

The captain considered, head tilted to one side then threw the wrist strap to Kloss. "Let him use it but watch him."

"Yes, sir."

Jack was pulled round and pushed forward. With Feugard in front of him and Kloss behind, they were taking no chances. The door to the Bridge opened and a tall, slim dark-haired man entered. With the barest glance at the three other men, he went to the navigation station and sat down. Jack had found Ianto.

* * *

_How will Jack fare on the freighter? Will Ianto be receptive to his approaches? More will be revealed in the next chapter which will be coming soon._


	2. Chapter 2

**Phaeton**

Chapter Two

An engine room on a freighter can reveal a lot more than the type and state of the engines.

Moments after he entered, Jack saw the plaque set into the wall which told him the freighter was called _The Phaeton_, commissioned in 3998. The drive bay looming before him was large, much larger than needed which meant the original engines had been removed and replaced by the current black crystal installation. That installation was not new, it had to have been in place at least five years. As no one rips out and replaces an engine less than ten years old, Jack deduced _The Phaeton_ had been operating for at least fifteen years so it was around 4013. And the ship was well cared for by its engineers; the engine room was as clean as any he had seen and tidier than most. Finally, Feugard's three-man team were enthusiastic and liked him judging by the way they jumped to respond to the chief engineer's arrival.

"So," growled Feugard, planting himself in front of Jack. "You're in my domain now and you'll do nothing without my say-so."

Jack nodded but said nothing. He watched a vein in the side of the engineer's forehead throb and knew it was caused by the whine – so close, it was like nails drawn across a blackboard - from the abused crystal. The man cared that his drive wasn't running smoothly but was powerless to do anything about it. This did not surprise Jack. Trimming black crystals was a skill that had not been developed until after 4500 when supply was outstripping demand. No longer could crystals be discarded and replaced with new ones except by the wealthiest of owners.

"What's this 'trimming'?" asked Feugard.

"A way of making cracked crystals ring true. Can I take a look?" Jack gestured to the drive. "'Cos that whine is driving me up the wall." The engineer nodded and stepped aside, allowing Jack to walk past him to the drive.

Stepping up onto the platform that ran alongside the drive, Jack looked at the complete installation paying particular attention to the housing for the crystal. After checking once more with Feugard, Jack opened the hatch and looked in on the crystal itself. It was mounted in a standard configuration, clamped at top and bottom. Crouching down and getting as close as he dared, Jack could just see the tiny crack running up from the bottom clamp. He closed the hatch.

"Well?"

"I can do it. You'll need to take the drive off-line and I'll need that." He nodded towards his wrist strap still held by Kloss, the large crewman.

"You'll do nothing until you explain precisely what you intend."

"No problem. You and your boys here can help."

It took an hour to power down the drive and remove the crystal from its clamps. Jack spent another hour and a half delicately detaching the damaged sliver of crystal under the eagle eye of Feugard and the eager interest of his team. Returning the crystal and delicately reclamping it took more time before the drive could slowly be powered up. The _Phaeton's_ captain made an appearance at this point, watching as anxiously as the rest as the drive edged up to quarter power, then half power and beyond. It was up to 70% when Jack called a halt.

"Let it settle at that for a while. No need to push it unnecessarily." The majority of freighters never travelled at full speed, 70% was ample for most journeys. He thrust his hands into his pockets hoping no one would notice he was still wearing his wrist strap. "You can increase it in a few hours if you want to make up the time you lost."

"Skavo, watch that gauge like a hawk," ordered Feugard. "Any sign of trouble or if the whine comes back, shut her down."

"Yes, sir."

Feugard turned to face Jack and nodded, a greater acknowledgement than any pretty words would ever be. He was an engineer of the old school who loved and cared for all machinery; anyone who made it run sweeter or faster earned his respect.

"Jones, keep a close watch. We'll be running at this speed until further notice. Maintain current heading," said the captain, who Jack had learnt was called Loomis, into his communicator.

"_Aye aye, sir. Maintaining course and speed."_ The communicator could not disguise the familiar Welsh vowels.

"Join me for a drink." Loomis was looking kindly at Jack and gestured to the door.

"Any chance of a meal? My stomach thinks my throat's been cut." Jack reached for his greatcoat which he had thrown on a chair.

"Should be something available, usually is. This way. Kloss, you can get back to your duties."

Captain Loomis led the way out of the engine room, which was on the third level of the ship, along corridors and up stairs until he reached the Officers' Mess which was on the same level as the Bridge. As the two men walked, Loomis talked steadily and openly about his ship. Jack listened, pleased to be trusted with the information; any doubts the captain had had about Jack appeared to have been overcome.

The Mess was a large room split into two distinct sections. On the left was the dining area: one long table with padded chairs for ten people and a galley. To the right was a larger section furnished for recreation: easy chairs and sofas, games of various sorts, books and a vid-screen. Both sections of the Mess had large holo-walls, currently tuned to views of woodland. They were also empty.

"Cwellazell!" shouted Loomis taking a seat at the head of the table and gesturing Jack into the one next to him. "Our cook. Temperamental bugger but good with the vittles."

A tiny man, not much over a metre high, poked his head out the galley and scowled at the captain. "What?"

"Coffee for both of us. And bring this man something to eat."

The cook coolly regarded Jack. "Who's he?"

"None of your business! Now get on and bring us those drinks." Loomis glared at Cwellazell who returned the gaze for a long moment before casually returning to his galley. "Insolent swine."

"Good cook's worth his weight in gold so I'm guessing you'll put up with it a while longer." Jack poured himself a glass of water from the carafe on the table, gulping it down before pouring another.

Loomis settled back in his chair, one ankle on the other knee and fixed a keen eye on Jack. "Sounds like you've been around. Spacer?"

"Sometimes." There were two main professions for people working in space. Commercial, hauling cargo and passengers, whose personnel were known as spacers and military known as spacejocks. Jack had done both in his time.

"Engineer I suppose."

"Sometimes," answered Jack with an apologetic smile. "More often as pilot."

Loomis raised an eyebrow in surprise; it was unusual for people to cross from one designation to another. "Must have been small ships."

"They certainly were."

The cook reappeared and plonked down two mugs and a pot of coffee. "Fixings is on the side. Food be ready in a couple of minutes." He stomped back the way he had come.

The two men helped themselves to coffee, Jack taking his black but Loomis adding a thin honey to his. A plate of aromatic spicy stew arrived and Jack tucked in. He was so hungry he'd have eaten anything at this point but the stew was tasty and he quickly demolished the lot. The cook must have been watching as he returned with a pot and ladled out another portion without comment. Jack ate this one more slowly. As he ate, Jack answered Loomis's questions about his background drawing on experiences from all parts of his long life to make a coherent tale. The captain appeared satisfied and left Jack finishing off his second plate of food to return to his duties merely cautioning Jack to stay in the Mess.

When he had eaten enough, Jack took his plate into the galley. He had Loomis and Feugard on side and wanted to connect with the cook too. "Thanks, really enjoyed that."

"So I noticed." The cook was preparing vegetables, standing on a platform that ran all along the food preparation area. "So you be the stowaway?"

"Not intentional. Name's Jack, by the way."

"There's fruit if you be wanting it." Cwellazell nodded to a bowl on the side and resumed his chopping. With a smile, Jack took an orange and returned to the mess.

An hour later, Jack was still seated at the table. He had found a book, a classic adventure romp he'd enjoyed in his childhood, and was leaning back in the chair with his feet on the table avidly reading it. Another officer who had not introduced himself was lying on the sofa in the recreation area watching the vid-screen. Jack looked up when the door opened and smiled before going back to his book.

Ianto Jones disappeared into the galley and returned several minutes later with a plate of the spicy stew and sat at the other end of table. He forked food into his mouth mechanically, staring down at the plate. Jack watched him from the corner of his eye. This Ianto looked very like his own. The dark brown hair was longer, reaching his collar, and had more curl. An old scar made a faint third eyebrow on the right side of his face. He was dressed in neat coveralls with a white scarf tucked into the neck. Jack's heart tightened with the pain of loss as he watched this man.

"You want something?" Ianto was looking right at the stowaway.

"A little conversation." Jack closed the book and swung his legs down. "Jack Harkness."

Ianto grunted and ate another forkful of food before saying, "Jones. Ianto Jones."

Jack beamed at him and blinked rapidly to keep his watering eyes under control. How typical that even in this reality Ianto would introduce himself the same way. "Nice to meet you. Coffee?"

"Yeah."

Jack reached for the pot, kept hot on its special heater, and poured some into a mug. He was on his way to the side table to add milk when he stopped himself; perhaps this Ianto took his coffee differently. "Fixings?" he asked, imitating the cook.

"Milk, just a drop."

With this added, Jack took the mug and set it on the table before reaching for his own half-full mug and sitting opposite Ianto. "So, what do you do?"

* * *

_So, the two have met. How will they get on? _


	3. Chapter 3

**Phaeton**

Chapter Three

It was a long minute before Ianto Jones answered and Jack wondered if he would. Then he spoke, a voice full of wariness and suspicion but with the same Welsh accent that Jack remembered so well.

"Navigator. Captain says you're a spacer. How did you get on board?" Ianto took the last forkful of stew and chewed, watching Jack.

"Don't rightly know. Got caught in something or other and dumped here." He sipped his coffee, a bitter brew. "Where exactly are we?"

Ianto pushed his empty plate away and leant back in his chair, easing away from the table. "You're on _The Phaeton_, that's all you need to know."

"Why is everyone so suspicious around here? Look, Captain Loomis has already told me you're on the Tallequin run, taking besquite to the inner worlds. I just thought that you, as the navigator, could give me a better idea of our actual position."

Jack spotted the look of annoyance that crossed Ianto's face. Obviously this man would not have given away so much information to a stranger who had appeared on a ship hundreds of light years from any inhabited planets. It brought to mind the reference Loomis had made, when they were on the Bridge, about someone called Kendal who wanted to sabotage the trip. Were they expecting trouble?

"I could."

Jack waited but the man said nothing more, just sipped his coffee. "Okay, forget it. Doesn't really matter. I only wanted to know how long it would be before I reached civilisation." He took another sip of coffee. "How long you worked for Hyperion?" The logo stood out on Ianto's coveralls.

Ianto considered and then said, "Six years, give or take."

"Good employer?"

"Why? You looking for a job?"

"Maybe," replied Jack with a shrug. It was becoming clear that he was not going to get anything out of this man. He was guarded, weighed everything he said and his face gave away nothing of his thoughts. Jack had thought his own Ianto had been private and sometimes secretive but this version took it to a whole new level.

The two men lapsed into silence, an uneasy tension between them. When Ianto had drunk his coffee, he stood up and took mug and plate into the galley before walking straight past Jack and into the rest area beyond. He growled at the man lying on the sofa who grudgingly moved his legs enough for Ianto to sit down. He watched the vid-screen, which was showing a music concert, without another word.

Jack continued to sit at the table drinking his coffee. He had assumed that he would like every version of Ianto in whatever reality he found himself but now he was not so sure. This Ianto was tough. Not so surprising, perhaps, if he'd been a spacer for at least six years. The life was hard and required tough men and women to endure the long journeys living with a small group of other people in cramped conditions as well as the constant dangers of space travel. It only required one hull breach, one tiny asteroid or some space junk to get through the shields, and the ship would be compromised. If one was lucky it exploded and killed everyone on board. If not it became your living coffin until the air ran out, forever floating in the emptiness between the stars.

With a sigh, Jack stood and walked into the galley, placing the dirty mug with the others awaiting washing. "I need the head. Where's the nearest?"

The diminutive cook looked over at him, his expression neutral. "Three doors aft."

Walking confidently out of the Mess, Jack turned left towards the rear of the ship and found the correct door. The head was empty and he used the facilities finishing with the sonic hand wash and drier. He took his time, testing whether anyone would come looking for him. After ten minutes he assumed he was not being watched. During the wait, he used the wrist strap controls to scan the ship and emerged back into the corridor knowing there were twenty one other people on board and with a plan of _The Phaeton_ in his head. He could now find his way around without needing further directions.

When he sauntered back into the Mess he found Captain Loomis pacing up and down in the rest area while berating Ianto and the other officer. They were both standing but neither looked concerned by the tirade aimed at them. "Is it too much to ask?" the captain said turning back to face the door. He stopped abruptly. "Where have you been?" he demanded, walking quickly to join Jack. "I told you to stay put."

"I needed the head." Jack maintained an innocent expression.

"Oh. Right." Loomis lost some of his bravado, confirming again that he was insecure as captain of the ship. "I need more speed. The crystal's behaving itself but Feugard says he needs longer to confirm it's safe. What do you think?"

Jack thought that the captain should trust his own engineer rather than a stranger but didn't say so. Over the captain's shoulder he caught Ianto looking at them, obviously thinking the same. "I think you should be guided by Chief Engineer Feugard. He knows this ship better than I do." Ianto's expression softened, he seemed pleased with this answer and Jack wondered if maybe he had a chance of getting under the man's defences.

"Humph. You're the one who fixed the crystal."

Jack shrugged and stayed silent, refusing to respond to Loomis' implied entreaty for support.

"If I may, sir," said Ianto coming over the join them. "Mux and I ran some simulations and we're only three point six days behind schedule. We can make -"

"I didn't ask for your opinion," snapped Loomis, rounding on him. "Make yourself useful, find this man a cabin and show him around." He stomped off, leaving the Mess without another word.

"Not a happy bunny," remarked Jack with a wry smile.

"Bunny?"

"Small animal. Harmless."

"Small is right for Loomis, not so sure about harmless." Ianto went back to the sofa where the other officer was sitting. He had turned off the vid-screen and obviously listened to the exchange. "This is Mux, Muxxin Tallabad to be formal, our pilot."

"Well hello, I'm Jack Harkness." The pilot was a handsome young man with bright red hair and fair skin. He was wearing the standard issue coveralls but they were baggy, torn in places and stained. It wasn't until he noticed this that Jack realised how much he now valued neatness; his Ianto had done that to him with his always immaculate suits.

"Nice to see a new face. Absinthe?" He held up a square bottle. Jack wondered if the man had a drink problem. Alcoholism struck down a lot of long-term spacers.

"No thanks." Mux topped up his own glass but Ianto also refused. "So," asked Jack, "what's the captain's problem?"

"Over-promoted. Needs to justify it, to himself and the big boss." Mux leant back, his head resting on the wall.

"Careful." Ianto looked towards the door and the galley beyond but no one was in sight. "This is Captain Loomis' first run as captain, is all. He didn't know us before he came on board and … it's taking a while for him to settle in." Ianto spoke soothingly, trying to be open-minded but Jack was not fooled. Ianto did not like the captain. Jack suspected no one did. They didn't even appear to respect him.

"It's hard to take over a crew. Need a couple of shake down runs before you'll be easy with one another." Jack also tried to appear positive but he felt Ianto understood his real feelings.

"If we last that long. Damn fool is crazy enough to get us killed." Mux had sunk sideways and was now resting on the armrest. He refilled his glass.

"He has a schedule to meet. He'll be paying penalties if we're late into port." Ianto reached across and took the bottle from Mux's loose grip. "And you've had enough of this."

"Hey!" Mux made a wild grab at the bottle but it was well out of his reach and he subsided back down again. "Keep it," he sulked.

Ianto placed the bottle in a cupboard which he made a point of securing. "There's a cabin next to mine you can have. I'll show you."

The two men walked through the ship. Passing the Bridge, they went down one level and then along a narrow corridor lined with doors down one side. Each had a name and designation etched on them; these were the officers' cabins. The third they came to had Ianto's name on it.

"I'm in here," the man said, gesturing with an thumb, walking past it. "This one's free." He pressed the door release and the door slid open grinding against something, the noise echoing around the metal corridor. "It's not been used in a while."

They walked inside and Jack looked round. It was twice the size of the brig he had been in before, six metres wide and the same deep. The bunk was built into an alcove with storage above and below and the shower room was alongside. The rest of the cabin was functional: a corner sofa, a desk and chair and more storage. The long wall opposite the door was a holo-wall, currently blank.

"Not bad," said Jack, opening the tall storage unit that he assumed was a wardrobe. It was empty. "Any chance of some other clothes? This is all I've got." He hung up his greatcoat.

"We can probably find you some coveralls and underwear." Ianto looked Jack up and down critically. "Never seen anyone dressed like you before."

"One of a kind."

"Huh." Ianto went to a large computer console built into the wall beside the door and pressed a button. "This summons the steward, Trisster. He looks after all the officers." Jack was standing beside Ianto looking at the console. "You won't have access to this, of course," said Ianto, folding his arms across his chest.

"You don't trust me. That's okay." Jack smiled. "Maybe you will in time."

"Don't hold your breath."

The door buzzer sounded and then the door opened with the same grinding noise. A man poked his head into the cabin. His face had old burn scars on the left side and that eye was milky. "Mr Jones, sir."

"Trisster, this is …" Ianto had forgotten Jack's name, "a guest. Find him some coveralls and other necessaries. He'll be in here for the time being."

"Hi, Trisster. Jack Harkness is the name." He gave the man his best grin; stewards could very helpful when settling into a new situation.


	4. Chapter 4

**Phaeton**

Chapter Four

Jack's instincts were serving him well. With Ianto gone – back to his cabin to change – Trisster, the steward, was proving a mine of information. As they sorted the clothes the man had brought for Jack's inspection, the details of life aboard ship came out.

A spacer crewman for all his fifty nine years, Trisster had survived an explosive decompression that had left him with burns to 40% of his body, especially his face and chest and was grateful to Hyperion for giving him a job. His service had been restricted to the Tallequin run, on _The Helios_ initially and for the past seven years on _The Phaeton_. Of the six officers he did not like Loomis but accepted that the man was only on the return leg of his first run so might yet settle; had little time for Mux, the pilot, who was a drunkard as Jack suspected; respected Ianto and Feugard; liked Beettle, the Cargo Chief; the midshipman was too young and inexperienced to be of interest.

"No doctor?" asked Jack looking at himself in the mirror. The coveralls fit well enough but were stiff and smelt from being too long in storage.

"No." Trisster grimaced. "Company said we'd have to do this trip without after the last one jumped ship. Supposed to have a replacement waiting when we get back to port."

"Taking a bit of a risk."

"Don't I know it! Never like hauling out without a doc on board but what can you do? I need the credits." The steward gathered together Jack's clothes. "I'll launder these for you."

"Thank you. Captain Loomis said something about a Kendal. Was that the doctor?" Jack knew it wasn't but a little ignorance often brought confidences.

Trisster shook his head. "No. Kendal, she's with the Aurora Line. Sector chief or some such and captain of her own ship. They're new on the run and taking a lot of business that used to be ours. Got better ships, see, newer ones. Can do the run faster." The steward leant in closer to Jack and lowered his voice. "Word is Loomis has to get into port in ten days or Hyperion lose the contract and he's out on his ear. He's convinced Kendal's out to stop him."

"Ah, I see. So that's why he wants to pile on the speed."

"Yep. But Feugard will make sure he doesn't do anything stupid. Now, I'd best get on." The old spacer gave a half salute and left the cabin.

Jack adjusted the coveralls one last time then sat on the sofa to consider all he had learnt. As he went over it in his head, he used the remote control to activate the holo-wall, idly cycling through the scenes until he found one of mountains and water that pleased him. The set up on board was interesting. Officers who were not at ease with one another did not make for an efficient ship. Throw in a drunkard for a pilot and a paranoid captain having to prove himself and it could be the recipe for disaster. Jack could not assess the threat from Kendal and the Aurora Line on the little he had found out so far and decided to dig into it some more, perhaps with Ianto.

Thinking of him, Jack smiled. The man was tough and suspicious, which was understandable in the circumstances on board, but Jack thought he might have detected a small thaw towards himself. The tarot girl had said, back in Cardiff, that by travelling in the spaces between time he, Jack, might find his true love. It had not happened so far but he refused to give up hope. This Ianto was very different to the one Jack had loved but he could fit into Torchwood just as well. If that was what he wanted. If it was what Jack wanted. The more he wandered the stars the more he doubted that Cardiff would ever contain him again. He had been happy there, and it still held Gwen to draw him back, but perhaps he should consider starting a new life with the Ianto of his dreams in some other place. And a spacer's life wasn't so bad.

The door buzzer sounded and Jack used the remote to release the door. Ianto was framed in the opening, dressed in black leather from head to toe. The outfit was tight in all the right places and Jack swallowed hard.

"Captain says I'm to show you around."

"Thanks."

"We'll start here and work our way down," said Ianto as they stood outside the cabin. He gestured further down the corridor. "There's Trisster's hidey-hole and a couple of spare cabins then it's all storage down there. Doesn't lead anywhere, just to a staircase."

"Bit dangerous, having no better escape that way."

"Typical of the ship. Talking of escape, this is the nearest pod." Ianto had walked a couple of metres back towards the open area at the top of the stairs and put a hand on the airlock door. He carried on walking.

The tour took forty minutes and included: the Bridge, captain's quarters and Officers' Mess on the top level; the second level with the officers' quarters and storage; the third level which contained the engine room and associated equipment storage units and workshops as well an empty medical bay; and the fourth level where the fifteen crew members lived and messed and which also held the brig. The bottom three levels – five to seven – were cargo holds, enormous areas currently full of besquite, a mineral essential to the production of various everyday plastics. On level five Jack was introduced to the Cargo Chief, Beettle, a toughened veteran who was too busy ensuring the cargo stayed cool – warmed besquite gave off noxious vapours – to bother with visitors.

"That's the tour," said Ianto, climbing back to the upper levels.

"Pretty much what I expected."

"It's okay, I suppose." Ianto had stopped on the central open area on level three. "It's a sound ship. She's done this run without trouble for years and she'll do it for years to come."

"I'm not arguing," said Jack, hands up in mock-surrender. "I … just wondered if a few corners were being cut. I understand there's no doctor. And some kind of rivalry with another company."

Ianto narrowed his eyes and stared at Jack for several silent minutes. "Who told you that?"

"I heard."

"Trisster I suppose. Big mouth, that one." He went up the next flight of stairs before adding, "Aurora want to make a name for themselves. They've invested a lot in new ships and need all the contracts they can get. They're undercutting us now but if we go out of business the prices will skyrocket. Our customers know that and they're loyal. We just have to fulfil our delivery requirements."

"Get to port on time."

"Right. And we will. We would have done anyway but with what you did to the crystal, we'll get there early."

"So why's Loomis so worried?"

Ianto shrugged elegantly but did not reply. "Captain wants to see you. We don't carry passengers so I'm guessing he'll be giving you a job." They were now on the top level. "He's in his quarters." He nodded to the left.

"Okay. And thanks again for the tour."

Jack stood and watched Ianto's lithe figure disappear in the opposite direction into the Officers' Mess. The slight swing of the hips may have been necessary to keep his balance but it could also have been for Jack's benefit. This was a ship of twenty plus men, they had to do something to while away the empty hours when they weren't working. Spacers were away from home for long periods of time and few could maintain a family life with partners left planetside. A lot gave up the struggle and settled for a girl or boy in every port, regular or picked up for the layover, while others found companionship with another member of the ship's complement. The minority became loners who rarely stepped off the ship and were avoided by everyone. Unable to decide which category Ianto fell into, Jack walked to the captain's quarters and buzzed for admittance.

"Harkness, come in." Loomis was sitting at a large desk which was spotlessly clean with all the papers in neat piles. This was a place of business. A door to the right led into the sleeping cabin. "Jones has shown you around?"

"Yes, thanks for arranging that."

"And what do you think of my ship?"

Jack thought carefully before he answered. If Loomis wanted him to work for his passage, he had something in mind. "It's well-run and most of the officers are good men."

"Most?" Loomis picked up on this, just as Jack had hoped.

"I don't want to speak out of turn, Captain, but I think your pilot could be a problem." He paused. "The drink."

"You've spotted that already? Yes, it is a concern. So far it's not affected his work but I'm watching him." Loomis stood and moved around the desk to a seating area. "Please, sit." When they were both seated, Loomis continued. "I don't know where you came from but so far you've only been helpful. Our speed is at 75% now and the crystal is holding up well, thanks to you."

"It was nothing."

"It betters our chances of making port on time and that's essential. Feugard agrees." He paused, regarding Jack solemnly. "I'm willing to trust you but only so far. Step out of line and you'll be posted out of an air lock. Understand?"

Jack nodded, just as solemn.

"Good. I want you to be my eyes and ears in engineering. Keep watch on the crystal and ensure it doesn't fail again. Plus, as you pointed out, Mux has his problems. I may need you in the pilot's seat occasionally."

"I'd be happy to pay my way by helping out." Jack settled back in the chair more comfortably. A roving brief suited him perfectly and he could ensure the other officers did not see him as the captain's spy.

"Good. Let's seal the deal." Loomis stood and poured two glasses of green liquid, giving one to Jack. "Skol."

"Cheers." They drank. The fiery liquid burnt a trail down Jack's throat and left a warm sensation behind.

"You may as well have those back." Loomis indicated a tray on the side which contained Jack's remaining personal effects, including the rod that would open the time portal. "I can't find anything dangerous about them."

"They're not, just some junk I've collected." The coveralls he was wearing contained a number of pockets and Jack stowed away his possessions trying not to make them look important.

"Be on the Bridge at the start of the next watch and you can see how things are run around here."

"I'll be there." Jack took his dismissal and left the cabin, keen to seek out Ianto once more.


	5. Chapter 5

**Phaeton**

Chapter Five

In the Officers' Mess Ianto was sitting at a chess board with the young midshipman, Maric Ashadel. They looked up briefly when Jack entered the room but went straight back to their game. The boy was barely out of his teens and his very blond almost white hair, a blemish free complexion and small mouth made him look even younger. He was short with a compact body that hid well-developed muscles, all in all a good looking boy. Helping himself to some water from the carafe, Jack retrieved the book he'd been reading earlier and sat in a chair some distance from the pair. He was able to watch them and soon picked up the signals - a brush of the hand and knowing smiles - that told him the two were involved.

Jack felt a pang of regret and stopped watching. He was trying to find his true love but no matter how much he wanted a Ianto in his life again, and he truly did, ripping him from familiar surroundings and people he loved was not part of the deal. If this Ianto was happy with the young midshipman, Jack would try to be pleased for him and move on. After ten minutes staring at one page he put the book aside and stared up at the ceiling. Perhaps it was time he left. He had the wand again and could leave whenever he chose. There was no point hanging around if this Ianto was content to remain here. Why torture himself by seeing Ianto with Maric? And yet Jack was loath to leave without at least testing the water with Ianto and making sure his suppositions were correct. Maybe another few days wouldn't hurt ...

"All right, you lot, meal be ready." Cwellazell's strident voice cut across Jack's contemplations.

Jack stood and stretched, smiling at Maric as he did the same. "How's the game going?"

"I'm losing. I always do." He looked quite happy about it.

"But you're getting better," added Ianto, locking the chess pieces in place and rising, the leather of his outfit creaking with his movement. "We'll carry on later."

The three men sat around the table and helped themselves to fish and vegetables. The pilot, Mux, joined them and the four sat and chatted. Jack told them a little of his made up background, hoping he'd remembered the story aright, and got the others to talk about their lives. Maric had been born and raised on a freighter and couldn't imagine any other life. Mux had come to the spacer's life by accident, leaving behind a privileged upbringing after one escapade too far with the law. Ianto's own tale was told with humour, of how he had stood on the family's hebetan farm in South Wales and stared up at the stars longing to escape. He had secretly studied navigation and run away when he was old enough to sign on.

"And I've not regretted it. Not for a minute," he concluded. "Anyone for more fish?"

"Please." Jack held out his plate.

The talk continued over a fruit dessert with Jack listening more than talking. Ianto softened in this company, losing his tough outer shell as the others teased him, and Jack felt his heart constrict. This was so like the meals he had shared with the team in Cardiff, a team shattered first by Gray and then by the 456. Finally Jack could take no more and had to leave. Excusing himself, he went to his cabin. Opening his mobile he sat and gazed at the photograph of his Ianto Jones, neat in a dark grey suit and white shirt, and silently cried.

-ooOoo-

Over the next few days, Jack slipped into the routine of life on board _The Phaeton_. He stood his watch as required, filling in as pilot when Mux overdid the drinking; helped with various jobs in engineering; took a turn in the galley preparing vegetables; stirred the besquite when the temperate rose. And all the time he kept his eyes and ears open, learning more about the ship's officers and crew and the way they worked together. He came to like most of them but kept a certain distance; his time on board was limited, better not to get involved with anyone in particular. And gradually he felt the men thaw towards him too, to accept him as someone who was trying his best to be helpful after being dumped in their midst by chance.

The morning of his fifth day as a co-opted member of the ship's company found Jack in his cabin checking the ship's position on an old star chart. They were currently on an elliptical course through the wastelands of the Talleq Galaxy, cutting corners on the normal route to make up time. They had to be in Occidic spaceport, unloaded, in six days and by slingshotting around the gas giant, Fant, they would be there in three. Jack knew the area a little, having visited it when working his cons, but not in this time period so he had no need to fear meeting himself or aggrieved marks. He had decided to stay with _The Phaeton_ until it docked and re-visit the spaceport before continuing with his search. A little break from his self-imposed quest suited him at this point.

There were still some hours until he was on duty but he was restless. Fastening his coveralls, he opened the cabin door to find Ianto standing on the other side, hand raised to knock. Both recoiled in surprise.

"Ianto, what are you doing!"

"I've just come off duty. Got the latest position for you." He held up a memory chip.

"Thanks."

Jack hesitated. One peculiarity of the last couple of days had been the number of times he had bumped into the navigator. Ianto had hung around the Mess watching the vid-screen when Jack was relaxing there, popped into engineering when he was checking the crystal and observed when Jack stripped off to get into the besquite with the crew for the stirring. It was odd and Jack did not understand it. Was Ianto attracted to Jack? Or was he still suspicious? Either was possible. All Jack knew for sure was that, being so close to Ianto, he wanted to lean forward and capture those lips.

"So do you want it?" asked Ianto with a smile. He leant against the door frame and crossed his arms over his chest. The front fastening of his coveralls was undone at the neck and revealed a glimpse of the hairy chest beneath.

"Yeah." Jack shook himself out of his reveries. "Yes, thank you."

"It's a bit complicated. Why don't I show you exactly how to plot it?"

"I can cope!" Ianto had been dubious about Jack's abilities as a pilot until they had been proven and it was now a running joke between them. "But you can come in if you like." Jack stepped back leaving room for Ianto to enter. He took the proffered chip.

Ianto stood in the centre of the room. "Interesting holo," he observed, nodding to the holo-wall which today displayed the fiery and inhospitable atmosphere of Pid'rickion Major.

"Wanted some colour. Come and show me how to do this then," he joked, sitting on the sofa with the chip and his star chart.

The two men sat side by side. Jack needed both hands to insert the chip and then to manipulate the data. As he worked, he was aware of Ianto's arm along the back of the sofa, almost touching Jack's shoulders and the warmth of his body as he looked at the screen.

"So you can do it," said Ianto thoughtfully.

"Of course." The newly plotted position showed the ship beginning the manoeuvre around Fant. It would take four hours to emerge on the far side.

The two men sat in silence. Jack placed the chart on the sofa beside him but Ianto stayed close. Over his own fast-beating heart, Jack heard Ianto's breathing quicken. He had not expected this. If this was what he thought it was. Was Ianto making a play for him? Or was Jack completely misreading the signals? He had considered it more likely that Ianto's strange behaviour and constant watchfulness was distrust but now … Now he thought it might, just might, be attraction.

"Gods, you smell good." Ianto's hand hovered above Jack's knee for a moment then gently landed.

Jack smiled; it was attraction. "So I've been told." He turned his head to look at Ianto - only centimetres separated them - and did what he had wanted to do earlier.

The kiss released the pent up tension in both men and they tore at one another for several minutes, hands reaching inside coveralls and lips, tongues and teeth meeting in a glorious coming together. With his eyes closed, Jack could ignore his surroundings and believe that he was back in the arms of his true love whom he had lost. The flesh beneath his hands felt the same, the lips and skin tasted the same, the hair … was longer and coarser and smelt wrong. This wasn't the Ianto he knew. This man was involved with someone else. Jack pulled back, holding off this Ianto when he lunged forward.

"No," he gasped. "No, this isn't right."

"Who cares?" Ianto brushed aside Jack's arms and pressed him back onto the sofa, grinning wolfishly down at him.

"Maric." Jack lay passive and watched Ianto's face. "You and he … You're together."

"No we're not. I've bedded him a few times, that's all. He's nothing special."

"Does he know that?"

Ianto rolled his eyes. "What does it matter! I want you and don't try telling me you don't want me. I've seen the way you stare at me." He bent and kissed Jack's neck and exposed collarbone, bites interspersed with the kisses.

Jack tried to hold onto his doubts and concerns but they floated away as delicious shivers rippled out from the other man's touch. He was aroused and eager to continue but he had been in this position before. His search had led him to many versions of Ianto Jones and he had had to leave them all behind for various reasons. Why should this one be any different? And yet it might be, said a small voice in his head. This might be the one who decides to spend the rest of his life with him, maybe in Cardiff maybe somewhere else. The one who fills the hole in Jack's heart, his soul. It was worth a try, surely.

Turning the tables, Jack captured Ianto's head and pulled him in for a searing kiss. He followed up with a frenzied assault that pushed the Welshman backwards until he recovered sufficiently to hold his own and respond. Neither man noticed when they rolled off the sofa and onto the floor, too intent on satisfying their urgent need for one another.


	6. Chapter 6

**Phaeton**

Chapter Six

The cabin door slid closed with its usual grinding noise. Alone again, Jack bent to retrieve his discarded clothes and piled them untidily on the sofa before going into the shower room and turning on the sonic waves. As he stood, his mind went over the previous half an hour. The sex had been satisfying, hard and fast, but had lacked something and, standing in the shower, Jack realised it was an emotional connection. He had come to expect that from encounters with Ianto which was proof that this man, this version of Ianto, was not the one Jack had come to love. And yet … every relationship needed time to develop and who knew where this one might end up.

"Idiot!" said Jack aloud, turning off the shower.

There had been no commitment from this Ianto, just an itch to scratch. He had wanted sex with Jack, had got it and had then left. With a rueful chuckle, Jack got re-dressed. The tables had been turned completely. That was just as Jack had been for years, using people to meet his own needs and keeping an emotional distance. How he had changed. How he had been changed by his Ianto.

He ate breakfast in the Officers' Mess with Captain Loomis and Chief Engineer Feugard. The pair were on better terms now _The Phaeton_ was ahead of schedule but there was still distrust between them hidden behind a veneer of politeness. Jack tried to forget his own concerns in conversation but it was hard going and he eventually gave up. The three sat in silence at they ate their meal.

"Jack, where are you this watch?" asked Feugard, pushing away his plate. "I could do with a hand recalibrating the sensors."

"I was due on the Bridge." Jack looked at Loomis. "You wanted me to keep an eye on Ashadel, Captain." The midshipman was taking a turn at navigation.

"I can do that. You go with Feugard."

"Aye, Captain." Jack was still not impressed with the man but did not show it. He had accepted Jack into his crew and not locked him in the brig. Better to keep on the man's good side in case he changed his mind.

-ooOoo-

The external ship sensors were controlled from the engine room and that was where Feugard stationed himself. Jack's job was to crawl through the ducting that ran the length of the ship and which contained relays linking the sensor grid. It was hot and uncomfortable work in cramped conditions and after two hours of it, Jack was dripping with sweat and his muscles ached.

"Sector nine," said Feugard through the comms. "Taking it off-line now."

"Hang on, I'm in the wrong place." Jack crawled on all fours along the grille further into the duct. He was ten metres from his goal when all hell broke loose.

The ship lurched sideways as the hull was struck by something big. Jack was thrown violently against the side of the duct into pipework and valves, arms and legs flailing. Another thud on the hull. Asteroid, he wondered, or explosion? He had no time to decide as another thud was closely followed by a further teeth-rattling lurch. There was no doubt this time, it was weapons' fire. Jack was better prepared now and he hung onto the grille as a series of explosions, this time from within the ship, rocked it back and forth, up and down. Clinging by his hands, he was swung around and his left ankle and hip made painful contact with the pipework once more. The noise of a bone breaking was clear. One of the valves which stood out from the rest tore through his coveralls and gouged into the flesh beneath. Gritting his teeth against the pain, Jack braced his right foot against another valve and managed to stop himself swinging.

The emergency alarm sounded dimly. More detonations against the hull – low concentration energy blasters, he concluded - and internal explosions rocked the ship. Recognising he needed to get out of the duct as quickly as possible, Jack concentrated on dragging himself, rung by rung, along the grille to the access hatch. The ship was now at a slight angle and Jack was climbing up. It took all his strength to keep going, using his right leg to gain what purchase it could while his left hung limply and sent stabs of pain through him. Finally, he reached his goal and pulled himself into the recess that housed the hatch. It was closed. Dulled by the pain, Jack took several seconds puzzling over this. The hatch had been open, secured with a heavy pin and now it was closed. Someone had closed it. Someone had left him in the ducting deliberately.

Another explosion on the hull slammed him against the hatch and made his situation very clear; stay here and he'd die for sure, get out and he had a chance of escape. Ignoring the pain, Jack crawled into a sitting position and checked the hatch. The electronic release did not work. That was no surprise, anyone wanting Jack trapped was hardly going to leave him an easy way out. Flipping open his wrist controls he activated the oscillator and directed it at the hatch, relieved when the status lights changed from red to green. Reaching over, Jack swung the hatch wheel and it opened. A choking cloud of gas and smoke billowed into the duct and Jack coughed and spluttered as he pushed forward into the engine room, falling the half metre to the floor with a yell of pain.

"Hello? Is someone there?" came from the other side of the large room above the muted sound of the alarm.

"Who's that?" panted Jack, taking stock of his situation while still lying on the floor.

"Skavo. I can't see." The voice was shaking with fear and pain.

"Can't see much myself." Jack eased himself up to rest against the wall. The engine room was full of grey smoke and there was a fire in one corner. Not far away, a body lay sprawled on the floor. The smoke was less intense closer to the floor and Jack found he could breathe a little easier. "What happened?"

"We're being attacked. At least, I think so. Is that you, Jack?"

"Yeah." Ripping off his belt, Jack tied it around his left ankle. The bone would mend in time but he needed to move now. There was blood running down from the wound in his thigh and his hip hurt like crazy. "The rest?" Jack wondered where Ianto was - most likely his cabin or the Mess. Jack hoped he was safe.

"I don't know." Skavo's voice was calmer but the pain was still evident. "I was checking the coolant levels when the pipe cracked. I got it full in the face."

Jack said nothing for a moment. Coolant was highly corrosive and contact caused horrendous injuries. "We need to get out of here. Keep talking and I'll try and get to you."

Jack crawled on his belly across the floor of the engine room towards Skavo's voice. He passed another body on the way, the last member of the engineering team. There was no sign of Feugard which meant he was alive somewhere but Jack couldn't think why he had left the engine room. Putting that aside for now, he had enough to think about, he crawled on and finally got to Skavo. The man was crouched in a corner, head tucked down to breathe in as little of the smoke and fumes as possible.

"Hey," said Jack putting out a hand to rest on the other man's leg. "Can you move?"

The man raised his head and Jack bit back a gasp. Skavo's upper face was a mass of burnt flesh across forehead, nose and right cheek where the coolant had sprayed out. His eyes had been burnt away. It was amazing he was still alive and Jack wondered if Skavo would want to be when he realised the extent of the damage.

"Umm." His hand clamped on Jack's convulsively.

"I'll need some help standing. I've got a broken ankle. You support me and I'll be your eyes. That way we'll get out of this mess."

With Skavo's shoulder under Jack's left arm, they staggered through the engine room. The smoke was as bad as ever but there were no more detonations against the hull; whoever had attacked them had stopped. The ship was shuddering and shaking with occasional internal explosions and one almost jerked them off their feet but they managed to stay upright. On his way past the drive bay, Jack noticed the black crystal was jiggling wildly in its clamps and slammed a hand against the release taking it off-line and preventing it shattering. The smoke and fumes were less dense in the corridor and the two men took a moment to draw in fresher air while Jack manually activated the fire suppressors. He wondered why they hadn't come on automatically.

"Med bay," coughed Jack, resting his weight on his good right leg. The medical facility was on this level and both he and Skavo needed treatment. They stumbled on and reached it finally. "Continue forward, two paces," he instructed. He left Skavo sitting on the examination table.

"We should call the Bridge," said Skavo. "Report in. Did you see anyone else, on the way here?"

"No, let's see to you first." Jack found the drugs cupboard, luckily intact, and gave himself a painkiller. He rarely needed medical attention and could already feel his ankle and thigh mending but he couldn't wait until it was complete. He sighed as the pain receded. "This is a painkiller," he said, back beside Skavo pressing the hypospray to the man's neck. "Now I need to wash your face."

For the next five minutes, Jack sprayed a cleansing wash over the horrendous wounds followed by an analgesic spray which hardened into a opaque mask. It was designed to lessen the formation of scar tissue and Jack hoped it would do some good until they could get to a planet-side hospital. At least it obscured the wounds. Skavo was stoic throughout the treatment and Jack admired him for it. Next, Jack hobbled to the comms set in the wall and tried it. He couldn't raise anyone.

"Come on, we have to get to the Bridge. They'll know what's going on." It was also where he hoped to find Ianto. Jack grabbed two med-kits and stuffed as many additional supplies in as he could, putting more into the pockets of his coveralls. He found a mask which he put over his mouth and nose.

Skavo got down from the table. "You'll need my shoulder," he offered, holding out his arm towards where he could hear Jack moving around.

"It's okay. Painkillers are working." Jack was healing fast now and his ankle was merely throbbing. He took the seeking arm. "Put these on."

With Skavo's mask in place and the med-kits secured round their waists, Jack led the engineer out into the corridor once more. The place was dim with emergency lighting and smoke and the deck slanted at a ten degree angle. Slowly they made their way to the central stairway. Part of it had been torn away from the walls and they had to be very careful traversing this section, keeping their weight as close to the supports as possible. Finally they reached level one and the Bridge.

* * *

_What will Jack find on the Bridge?_


	7. Chapter 7

**Phaeton**

Chapter Seven

The Bridge had suffered as much damage as the rest of the ship. Two workstations had been destroyed, relays had blown and one wall was scarred and pitted with fire damage. The air reeked of smoke, escaped coolant and fire suppressant but was breathable. Jack took in all this in a few seconds as he led Skavo through the door. He also saw a blood-covered Captain Loomis slumped in his command chair with a deathly pale and seriously bruised Midshipman Maric Ashadel kneeling beside him. To one side, was an uninjured Ianto Jones working feverishly at the pilot's station. Jack's heart lifted; Ianto had survived, together they would sort out what had happened.

"Jack, what's going on out there?" demanded Ianto, looking up for an instant before returning to his task.

"I was hoping you'd tell me." With Skavo in a chair, Jack crossed to the captain. "Out of the way, Maric." He gently pushed the boy aside and ran the medical scanner over Loomis. "No hull breaches in the central stairway on levels two and three. Engineering is a mess but it can be made operational. I've taken the drive off-line until the crystal can be realigned. Skavo here is the only member of the team to survive. I don't know where Feugard is."

"Damned traitor," said Loomis through clenched teeth. He had a piece of metal about half a metre long – a chair strut perhaps – embedded in his stomach. With the med-kit open beside him, Jack gave the man some painkillers before investigating further.

"Traitor? What do you mean?" Jack flicked a glance to Ianto and saw a look of pure hatred on his face. For a moment Jack thought it was directed at him but then realised it was Feugard Ianto hated.

"He set up an ambush for Kendal and her mob. They were hiding on the far side of Fant and were on us before we knew it. Feugard had the sensors and shields off-line, the bastard. And he's destroyed communications so we can't call for help."

Jack was working on Loomis but listening hard. "Hull breaches?"

"Three. Two on level four. I raised Beettle on the comms before it went down. He and a couple of crewmen are alive down there, trapped in gamma section. Or they were, Gods know if they're still okay!" Ianto hit the side of the workstation in frustration. "I don't know about the rest."

"And the other breach?"

"Next door. The Mess. Total decompression." He raised his eyes and met Jack's gaze. "Cwellazell and Mux are dead." He looked out of the small view screen where, if one looked hard, their dead bodies could be seen floating in the mass of debris surrounding the ship.

"I'm sorry. Where's the attack ship? And Feugard?" Having pulled the clothing away from Loomis' wound, he cleaned it up as best he could. The next stage was to remove the metal fragment which was likely to cause a renewed bout of bleeding which he was not sure he could stem.

"He skipped … out on us. The bastard," Loomis ground out. "Escape pod."

"The ship pulled back, stopped firing," added Ianto still working at the controls. "Didn't understand why until we got Feugard's parting message and saw all the pods detach. He was in one of them and he made sure there were none left for anyone else! It'll finish us off as soon as he's picked up."

Jack's brain was racing, considering two problems at the same time. One was finding the best way to treat Loomis, the other was how to help the rest of the ship's crew. The ship itself appeared, at the moment, to be relatively airtight and could, with a bit of work probably be patched together sufficiently to limp into Occidic spaceport. But only if it didn't suffer any more damage which it would if the ship out there thought there was any chance of it moving under its own steam.

"Maric, come here. Hold this in place. Press down hard," he ordered, indicating the pressure bandage around Loomis' wound. "Harder." When he was content the dazed Maric knew what he was doing, he scanned the ship using his wrist strap controls. "Beettle and the others are still alive. No other life signs."

Ianto looked up at him, his face bleak. "You mean there's just us?"

Jack went to Ianto's side. "Yeah and we need to stay alive by making them," he jerked a thumb indicating the attackers out in space, "think we're dead. Shut down everything including life support."

Ianto stared at him. "Don't be a fool."

"It's the only way. If they think we're no threat, that they've left no witnesses, they'll leave us alone." Jack maintained eye contact, trying desperately to make him understand. "We don't have escape pods so we need this ship!"

"He's right." Loomis' voice was faint but it carried in the silence of the tense standoff. "Do it … Mr Jones."

Ianto bit his lip and looked away through the view screen. He was the only officer in a position to make a decision; Loomis may be captain but he was injured and his judgement suspect. Ianto had a damaged ship and the lives of half a dozen men to consider. What Harkness and Loomis proposed made a kind of sense but shutting everything down would put them in more danger than just from the ship hovering off their stern. His eyes focussed on the scene outside and on the body of Mux, his friend, which was edging away, drawn by the gravity from Fant, the gas giant that filled half the screen. If they shut every system down they'd be drawn in too.

"Ianto," said Jack quietly, placing a hand on the man's arm to get his attention. "We're doomed if we lose this ship but, between us, we can patch her up with shields and a working drive. When we reach Occidic we can report the people responsible. They'll pay for what they've done." He hoped that would be enough to sway the Welshman's decision; it was the sort of argument that his Ianto would have accepted. "Don't let them win."

With a reluctant nod, Ianto turned back to the others. "You're right. I'll need you at engineering station." His fingers were dancing over the pilot's station before moving to another. "Turning off all non-essential functions first."

Jack stepped round Maric and got to the engineering station. It was burnt but appeared largely operational. "We need something visual to make them believe we're dead in the water. Any ideas?"

"Ballast tank four, sir," piped up Skavo. He had sat silently listening to the exchange, frustrated that he couldn't help. "We didn't have a full load so it's still full of air."

"And?"

"Upset us," whispered Loomis. "That's what … you mean, isn't it?" He managed a small smile which the blind Skavo could not see. "Good thinking."

Skavo explained more fully. "The tank's on the port side, sir, level six. If we blow it _Phaeton_ will skew by around twenty degrees, portside down."

"Excellent." Jack now understood what he meant and began the process.

Working independently, Jack and Ianto gradually took down all the ship's systems, all signs that it was capable of flight. Ballast tank four was blown and _The Phaeton_ lurched sideways and then dipped alarmingly. With a few final adjustments, Ianto powered down life support. They had air enough for an hour or so and it was going to get very cold. Until, that was, the heat of Fant burnt through the inadequate shields as they drifted ever closer.

"That's that, then," said Ianto sitting back in his chair. "We have an hour for Kendal to leave before we're out of air and unable to get out of Fant's gravitational field." He rubbed his hands across his face, his eyes gritty with fatigue. After leaving Jack's cabin he had managed only a couple of hours' sleep before the emergency; he was exhausted.

"And we need to use it. Take Maric and find whatever you can on this level that will be useful and pile it up somewhere secure. Spacesuits, food, water. You know the drill." Jack was moving carefully on the sloping deck to Loomis. "I'll see what I can do for the captain."

-ooOoo-

Fifty three minutes later Maric, on watch at the view screen, reported the enemy ship moving away. It had stood guard before _The Phaeton's_ bow for three quarters of an hour, watching the ship wallowing helplessly and gradually sinking towards Fant. The lack of systems activity and state of the hull finally convinced Kendal that no one still alive on board would survive for long and they were certainly not going anywhere. This was a less frequented part of space, a short cut few used, and it was unlikely _The Phaeton_ would be found before it was consumed in Fant's atmosphere.

"They're going," said Maric, turning awkwardly. He was wearing a spacesuit to keep warm as was Skavo and Captain Loomis. The search had found six but Jack and Ianto had declined to wear theirs as they found them restrictive.

"Wait," warned Loomis from his chair. Jack had removed the metal strut and successfully stemmed the bleeding. With the strong painkillers, and by keeping still, Loomis had remained conscious but he was still very ill; Jack thought there was more internal damage but was not skilled enough to find out for sure. "We have to be out of … their sensor range."

"We'll give it five minutes but then we have to engage thrusters or we'll never get away from Fant," pointed out Ianto. He was standing, pacing up and down at the lowest point of the skewed deck where he could keep his balance.

"I think I can give you partial sensors," reported Jack. He was at the engineering station again. "It won't be much but should alert us to any more visitors."

"Good. The thrusters will be enough to get us moving but we'll need the drive soon. Think you can get that operational too?"

Jack looked across at Ianto and grinned confidently. "Of course. Don't worry, we're going to be fine." He chuckled when Ianto rolled his eyes in disbelief and continued to pace.

Loomis cleared his throat. "Have to … get to Beettle," he said. "Need everyone … in one place."

"First things first, Captain," said Jack breezily. "Soon as we've got a bit of momentum behind us that'll be our next priority."

With Ianto back at his own station and Jack at engineering, they prepared the battered systems. Maric took the pilot's station. He was recovering from his concussion caused by a crack on the head and seemed keen to play his part, encouraged by the example of the other men. Skavo sat by Jack, where he had been for the past half an hour, patiently answering Jack's questions and providing vital information about the ship and how she was likely to handle.

"Okay, we have to do it now," said Ianto. "Life support re-engaged. Jack, sensors."

Jack brought them on-line at much reduced power. "All clear for five thousand metres."

"Course laid in. Engage thrusters, quarter power."

"Thrusters on line." A very faint thrumming could be heard in the previously silent room.

The ship continued to drift towards the planet.

* * *

_Will they get away from Fant?_


	8. Chapter 8

**Phaeton**

Chapter Eight

"We're out of the gravitational field," reported Ianto. "Thrusters moving us at two thousand metres a second."

"Slow her down," said Loomis, "we don't want to … attract attention to … ourselves just yet." He was finding it difficult to breathe and feared he may have lung damage but did not complain. The others had more than enough to cope with.

"Cutting back to quarter impulse."

It had been a dodgy five minutes when it appeared the thrusters did not have sufficient power to pull _The Phaeton_ away from Fant. Everyone on the Bridge had held their breath as, very slowly, the ship had edged away. Now they were clear but more power was needed to maintain essential systems and repair damaged ones. That power would come from the crystal drive; bringing it back on-line was vital if they were to survive long enough to reach port. They had a long way to go but had taken the first step.

"There, what did I tell you? A piece of cake," said Jack breezily grinning from his place at the engineering station. "She's a good ship."

"We're not out of the woods yet," cautioned Ianto. However, he had to admit that the blithe confidence had heartened him and, it appeared, the others on the Bridge. Jack Harkness was a good man to have around in a crisis. "Maric, continue on this heading, at this speed, until further notice."

"Aye aye, sir." The midshipman smiled, more confident of surviving now than at any time since the attack.

Ianto left his station and went to crouch by Captain Loomis. "How are you doing, sir?" The captain's dogged determination to keep his ship and surviving crew as safe as possible despite his injuries had impressed Ianto. There was an element of respect between the two men that had been lacking before.

"I'm all right. We have … to find out … how the others … are."

"Aye, sir." Ianto looked across at Jack who smiled back. "Any thoughts?"

"The ship's pretty banged up. According to my scanner, we're reasonably air tight but someone needs to go take a look. Take it level by level, section by section. I need to get to the engine room and check on the crystal so," he shrugged, "I guess I'm volunteering."

"Not alone," said Loomis. "Too dangerous." He placed a hand on Ianto's arm. "You go with … him, Mr Jones. Mr Ashadel, Engineer Skavo … and I can keep … watch here."

"I'm not leaving you, sir. We have no comms if anything should happen." Ianto softened his tone but it was clear he meant what he said.

Skavo spoke up. "Sir, we could use the comms from the suits." He fingered the one built into the spacesuit he was wearing.

"He's right. You're full of good ideas today." Jack slapped him gently on the back. "Let me get at this one." He disentangled the comms unit from one of the spare suits.

"Sir, what about your ankle?" asked Skavo. "Will you be able to manage?" He had had to assist Jack out of the engine room and while Jack had not mentioned it since, Skavo assumed it must still hurt.

"It's better, thanks." He squeezed the man's shoulder, hoping he'd not say any more as explaining his ability to heal quickly would only hold things up.

After a comms check, Ianto reluctantly agreed to the arrangements and he and Jack left the Bridge. They quickly searched the rest of level one, which Ianto had already scoured for anything of use, and double checked the bulkhead doors were secured, locking them into position. Getting to the next level was tricky - the deck was canted to one side and the stairs had pulled further from the wall – but they made it down. This was the officers' living quarters and they checked the cabins, taking out blankets, food, clothes and anything else of use and piling it up by the stairs. Jack added several bottles of absinthe he found in Mux, the late pilot's, cabin. In his own cabin he took a minute to change into clean coveralls, wrapping up his own trousers and shirt in his greatcoat and adding them to the pile of useful items. He found the wand to open the time portal and his other possessions in the locked cupboard where he had left them and put them in his pockets; he didn't want to lose them.

"I found Trisster," said Ianto dully when they met by the stairs. "He's dead."

"I'm sorry."

"Yeah." Ianto ran a hand through his hair and leant back against the wall, eyes closed. "This is a nightmare."

"We're doing okay." Jack came nearer and tentatively wrapped his arms around the other man, relieved when Ianto accepted the embrace. "You're doing great."

"I couldn't have managed without you," said the Welshman into Jack's shoulder. He settled into the man's arms and clung on, needing the reassurance and comfort of being held. A minute or two later, Ianto drew in a deep breath and pulled away. With a nod but avoiding eye contact, he took a deep breath and squared his shoulders. "Let's get on."

On level three the smoke and gases had cleared, leaving just a haze and a metallic taste which caught at the back of the throat. Jack pulled up the mask he had kept round his neck as he surveyed the engine room. It was a mess with considerable fire damage but the drive bay was relatively undamaged. He was reasonably sure the crystal could be brought back on-line safely. The two men went to the Med Bay and took more of the remaining drugs and put them by the stairs leaving only the less useful. Five of the bulkhead doors had locked but one, luckily not an essential one, needed their combined weight to drag it closed.

Moving on, Ianto led the way down the stairs to level four. The central area was fairly clear but to the right there was nothing beyond the closed bulkhead door. Through the small viewing window, Jack looked into what had been sections epsilon to theta - the crew's living quarters and brig - and which was now a tangled mess of twisted metal open to space. Anchored by one foot the body of Kloss, the big crewman, floated weightlessly. There was nothing to be done here, this side of the ship was gone. He joined Ianto at the left-hand door.

"There's nothing in epsilon section and beyond," Jack reported.

"Beettle said he was in gamma. We can only get to it through delta which is impossible, damn it!" Ianto moved to one side to allow Jack a view through the door window.

Jack looked through. Delta section was around thirty metres long and, like the rest of the ship, it was a mess. It was the crewmen's recreation room and while the large items of furniture were bolted to deck or walls, many loose items – large and small – that had been thrown around. Chairs, tables and other furnishings were strewn around the space as well as broken bottles and games consoles. In the far corner, where the deck sloped away, was a pile of broken and smashed items. At the other side of the section was another bulkhead door which led into the Crew's Mess, gamma section.

"Looks airtight to me," said Jack when he'd completed his survey.

"It is. Check the panel."

"Oh."

"Yeah, 'oh'. It's flooded with stet radiation."

Ianto banged his fist against the door. As if summoned by the sound, a face appeared at the window in the next door along. The man grinned and turned away, replaced by Cargo Chief Beettle. With the comms still down it was impossible to speak to the trapped men but it was clear from their expressions that they assumed rescue was coming. With a heavy heart, Ianto attempted to look positive - those men needed hope - but it tore at him. There was no way of getting to them. At best they might survive the journey to port trapped in the Mess but it could just as easily end up being their coffin.

Jack had been checking the controls. The ones on this side of the door were fused and inoperable. When Ianto moved away from the door, Jack spoke, considering his words carefully. "There must be a way to flush out the radiation from inside."

"Sure there is." His tone was sarcastic. "You volunteering to go in there?"

"Yeah."

Ianto stared at him. "No one can survive in there long enough to turn it off, it takes too long."

"I can. I can survive it."

"Are you crazy? It's … stet … radiation," he pointed out, speaking slowly and clearly. "It's fatal at those levels even in a hazard suit, which we haven't got." They had been stored in epsilon section.

"I know all about stet. I've come across it before – and survived." He thought briefly about Malcassairo, The Doctor, Martha and The Master then concentrated once more on the here and now. "Ianto, I'm … I'm a bit different from you. I can survive the radiation, just tell me where the controls are."

"No one can survive that!"

At the door once more, Jack peered through the window scanning the walls for a control panel. In the chaos he couldn't see it. He faced Ianto. "I'm going in. If you tell me where the panel is it'll be a lot quicker. Are you going to help or leave those men to their fate?"

"I order you not to go in there." Ianto was beside him, a determined look on his face.

"Sorry, won't work. I don't take orders from you." He turned back to the door.

"Jack …" Ianto could not find the words. Why was it the brave ones who died? "I don't want you to go in there. I don't … I don't want to lose you."

Stopped by the genuine emotion in the words, Jack faced Ianto again. Could it be that this Ianto cared for him? Had they made a connection after all? Was there hope for a future together? Jack asked simply, "Why?"

"I need you, Jack. Don't go in there." Ianto placed a hand on Jack's arm, hoping he had persuaded the man against his rash proposal. "I need your help to get this ship to port."

"Is that all?" Jack was disappointed.

Ianto paused for a long time. "I don't know. Maybe there's more, but if you go in there we'll never find out."

Deciding this was a hopeful sign, Jack smiled. "There'll be plenty of time, don't you worry. Now, the control panel?" He put a hand on the door release. "It's now or never."

Seeing he was unable to dissuade Jack, Ianto accepted the inevitable. "It's on the other side of this door."

"Thanks. Step back." With a flourish, he released the door and stepped into the radiation-flooded room.

As soon as the door closed, Ianto ran forward to peer through the small window. He saw Jack bending and straightening up again repeatedly but couldn't see why until he noticed the pile of debris growing; Jack was clearing a path to the panel. Then he disappeared, too close to the other side of the bulkhead for Ianto to see him. With a small sigh, Ianto wondered if that would be the last time he saw Jack before he was vaporised.


	9. Chapter 9

**Phaeton**

Chapter Nine

Ianto still couldn't believe it. The stet radiation levels in the crew's recreation room were decreasing, flushed out by the filtration system Jack had activated from inside the room. The man should be dead, vaporised by the deadly stuff. But he wasn't. He was moving around clearing the room, checking if there were any items worth salvaging. Why wasn't he dead? Ianto couldn't understand it at all. He was still puzzling over this when the door opened in front of him and Jack stood there, beaming at him.

"Need your help with the other door," he said.

In a daze, Ianto crossed the room, now clear of the radiation, and joined Jack at the further bulkhead door. He eyed Jack up and down, searching for some indication of how he had survived but saw nothing different. He was the same as before, the same as when the two had engaged in vigorous sex only hours ago.

"The securing pin is bent," explained Jack, "and I can't shift it on my own. Need some more leverage on this." He had a long handled metal stick used for playing krendos wedged under the head of the pin. "Grab hold and press down."

"Okay."

Ianto stood shoulder to shoulder with Jack and placed his hands on the krendos stick partly overlapping Jack's. This close, his nostrils were filled with Jack's unique smell, the one that had driven him to seek Jack out for sex. Even as Ianto was pressing down on the stick, he felt his skin tingling and a familiar stirring in his groin but resolutely ignored both. There would be time for that when they got these men free and the ship was under way. He concentrated on the securing pin which was gradually being forced up and out of the lock. It sprang clear with a clatter which threw both men off balance, Jack stumbling into Ianto's arms.

"Whoa, sorry." Jack steadied himself with his hands on Ianto's waist but did not immediately move.

Ianto did not move either. "That's all right."

Jack chuckled. "Mind on your work, please. We can pursue this later." He winked and gently disengaged himself, returning to the door. He fiddled with the release and finally the door slid open at about a tenth of its normal speed, helped by a good shove.

"Good to see you, Jones," said Beettle, emerging from the crew's mess where he had been trapped for the past few hours. "And you, Harkness. What's the situation?"

Ianto brought his mind back from the puzzle of Jack Harkness, promising himself a long talk with the man later. And perhaps more than a talk. Beettle, the more experienced officer, was waiting for Ianto to answer. "_Phaeton's_ partially operational but she's been seriously compromised. Hull breaches on this level and topside. We've lost most of the crew including Mux, Trisster, Kloss and Cwellazell." He paused as the reality hit home again. "And we have injured."

"The captain?"

"Alive but badly hurt; Jack patched him up. One of the engineering team's alive but blind. Maric's okay. Feugard did a real number on us!"

"I still find it hard to believe, that he could turn on us like that."

"Believe it," interjected Jack. He had checked over the two crewmen, Pasten and Livesey, who had been trapped with Beettle - they were bruised but otherwise uninjured - and got them gathering up all the useful items in the room and in particular all the food and drink they could find. "No time for a chat now. This level is not the best place to linger." Only a couple of bulkhead doors were between them and the inhospitable nothingness of space.

"I'll let the Bridge know what's happening," said Ianto.

It took the five of them half an hour to strip the room. Ianto left first on his way back to the Bridge. The captain and Maric were coping but he wanted to be there and see for himself that all was well: Loomis was too sick to be on top of things and Maric too inexperienced while Skavo was blind. He took a load of scavenged food and drink up the stairs with him on an anti-grav trolley. Beettle and Livesey went down to level five, the first of the three cargo-carrying levels, to check on the tons of besquite stored there. It was unstable stuff and Beettle was concerned about how it had been affected by the attack. Finally, Jack and Pasten hauled other essentials up to level one where Ianto had turned the captain's office into a store. Leaving Pasten to make more trips with the stashes left on other levels, Jack took Skavo back to the engine room on level three; it was time to get the drive back on line.

The two men stayed in the engine room for the next four hours.

Settling Skavo at a working engineering station, Jack began clearing the engine room so he could get at vital systems. The first hour was spent removing the crystal from its clamps and minutely checking and cleaning the installation. It had been damaged, not destroyed. Jack did the physical work but Skavo's knowledge was invaluable. The engineer was even able to operate his station, once he'd overcome an initial fear that he would press the wrong buttons; he'd been on board for eighteen months and the controls were ingrained in his memory. It was a proud moment for both of them when the drive was brought back on-line. The ship groaned and shook, complaining at the stresses and strains being put on its weakened structure. After some trial and error, they found that 12% of normal was the best speed they could get without shaking the ship apart but hoped for better in due course.

Hours two and three were devoted to shields and communications. This was more difficult as so many of the relays had been blown or were in parts of the ship that had been destroyed or were inaccessible. In the end, Jack built stronger shields round the damaged parts of the hull and fashioned a basic two-way comms from the engine room to the Bridge, the two areas they had to keep manned, by piggybacking on other systems. It was crude but it worked. He also rigged up some personal communicators and got Livesey to distribute them to all crew members. In the final hour, Jack tried and failed to bring the internal sensors back on line; there just wasn't enough left to work with. He was about to report his failure to Ianto, up on the Bridge, when the man himself walked through the door.

"How's it going?" Ianto stood looking round the room, taking in the order that had been created from the earlier chaos. The slight hum from the crystal drive was reassuring. The ship was now several light years from Fant and limping towards Occidic spaceport.

"No joy on the sensors. We won't get them working again." Jack was sat on the floor, his coveralls dirty once more and his face smudged where he had wiped it with dirty hands.

"Pity but … we can do without. I brought you both some coffee."

"You're a lifesaver, right, Skavo?"

"Yes, sir." The engineer was still at his station.

Ianto gave the men the two mugs he had brought with him and then poured the coffee from the insulated flask. "When you've finished this, come up top and have a meal. We have hot food and you two need to eat."

"That sounds good," replied Jack, savouring the hot drink. "Any joy on the stairs?" Others had been working to make the stairs between levels one and three less precarious.

Ianto grinned, removing some of the traces of tiredness from his features. "Better than that. Beettle came up with an anti-grav lift so we can avoid using them altogether."

He studied Skavo as he spoke. The medical mask hid most of the man's injuries but it must still be painful as well as distressing to be blinded. The man was holding up well and doing a good job but he needed rest. They all did, the able–bodied amongst the survivors as much as the injured. Ianto himself felt exhausted and he guessed Jack must too although he didn't look it. Perhaps he could wangle it so they got a rest period at the same time.

They discussed the state of other systems and when the coffee was drunk, the three men returned to the Bridge – now the base of operations – using the new lift. While Jack washed in the nearby head, Ianto checked on the captain who had been moved to his sleeping cabin. The man was sleeping, well propped up to aid his breathing which was ragged and uneven. The meal was a fish stew with bread followed by fruit; they couldn't keep the perishable foods so they had to be eaten first. By raiding the Crew's Mess they had enough for at least two weeks, the same with water, which should, barring further emergencies, be sufficient. They had rigged up a stove in a corner of the Bridge. While they were all together, Ianto and Beettle, the two senior officers barring the disabled captain, summarised the situation.

"We're on course for Occidic spaceport," said Ianto, sipping coffee – it helped keep him awake. "It's not the course we would have taken, nor is it one likely to be used by other ships, partly because of where we ended up after the attack but mostly in case Kendal and her people are watching for us. At current speed, we'll make port in ten days."

Jack swallowed his mouthful and said, "We're currently at 12%. The crystal can do more, up to 50% or 60%, but at that speed we're likely to shake the old girl apart." He gently patted the wall against which he was leaning.

"Which we certainly don't want," agreed Beettle with a grim smile. "We can survive ten days. There's food and water enough for that and we have life support. We just need to act sensibly, work together and we'll be back in port in no time. And with a tale to tell our grandchildren."

His words heartened everyone and there were smiles and a few chuckles from the men gathered round. Ianto was sitting at his navigator's station with Maric alongside in the pilot's seat. Jack was sat on the floor on one side of the door while Pasten and Livesey were on the other side. Skavo was at the engineering station and Beettle had taken the central captain's chair.

"We need to allocate responsibilities," Beettle went on. "Ianto?"

"Chief Beettle and I have discussed this. While the captain's incapacitated, I'll be in charge on the Bridge with Midshipman Ashadel to assist. Beettle will be in charge of supplies and other resources and generally keep a watch on the integrity of the ship." He looked across at Jack. "I'd like Mr Harkness to oversee engineering."

"Fine by me, as long as I can have Skavo to assist."

"Of course, sir," said the young man immediately, refusing to let his injuries get him down. He had received more painkillers and was coping well.

"Excellent. Pasten and Livesey, you'll be with me," added Beettle. "Now, let's think about shifts."


	10. Chapter 10

**Phaeton**

Chapter Ten

_The Phaeton_ was travelling through space, limping along at a fraction of its normal cruising speed. The holes in its hull and the decided list to port told the tale of catastrophe barely averted. Inside, the surviving crew were on night watch. On the Bridge, Midshipman Maric Ashadel was monitoring course and speed and at the engineering station, Jack Harkness was assessing the latest tweaks he had made to shields and external sensors. On the same level, Captain Loomis slept in his cabin, drugged against the debilitating pain and discomfort of his injuries. Down one level, in the officers' quarters, Navigator Ianto Jones slept deeply, finally able to rest after almost twenty hours of constant activity and alarm. Bunked down in one of the other habitable cabins was Engineer Skavo, blinded in the attack, and now also drugged sufficiently to rest. In with him, using a makeshift bed on the sofa, was Crewman Pasten snoring mightily. Way down on level five of the ship, Cargo Chief Beettle and Crewman Livesey were once again checking the cargo of besquite. It had shifted during the attack adding to the ship's list to port and Beettle was concerned it might move again. So far the cooling system was keeping it at an acceptable temperature.

"I think I'll turn in for a couple of hours," said Jack. He stretched, working out the kinks in his back from where he had been hunched over for so long. "Need anything before I go?"

"No, thanks." Maric smiled, his young face wearing its normal open expression. He had been knocked out during the attack and concussed for several hours afterwards but now, given direction and purpose, he had risen to the challenge of getting the crippled ship to port.

"Call if anything happens. And Beettle should be back soon."

"I know. Go and get some sleep, you were supposed to be off duty hours ago."

"Ahh, when you get to my advanced years, young Maric, you'll find you won't need so much sleep either." This was said with a smile but at that moment Jack was feeling some of his over two thousand years.

Leaving the Bridge, Jack stopped in the captain's quarters to check on Loomis. He was still breathing raggedly - a bad sign. It might be necessary to investigate further if it didn't improve. This was where the absence of a doctor on board – one who might have survived the attack – was a bad mistake. Quietly leaving the sleeping man, Jack took a small bottle of water and a very ripe banana from the stores in the adjoining office and used the lift down to level two. This level had been reinforced with additional shields to provide a safe place for all the crew to sleep. Only four cabins were habitable and Jack stopped outside the one being used by Ianto and tried the door. It opened and he stepped inside letting the door slide closed behind him.

The safety lights in a band around the top of the walls were glowing blue and in this cool light, Jack looked down on Ianto. The Welshman was on the bunk, wrapped in a thick blanket and lying on his right side facing into the room. He wasn't making a sound and didn't stir when Jack sat on the edge of the bunk, leaning back against the side of the alcove and ate the banana. As he sat there, he wondered how many times he had watched Ianto - his Ianto, the one he had lost to the 456 – sleep in just the same way. Not have sex, just watched him sleep. A hundred? Five hundred? A thousand?

He decided to work it out. They had first had sex in late 2007 but they had been quick shags in the Hub. Ianto had joined him in the bunker a few times in early 2008, before Jack had left to find The Doctor, and stayed the night. After Jack had returned they had spent three or four nights together every week, either in the bunker or at Ianto's place. It had become a more regular event in 2009, with Jack leaving clothes and other possessions at Ianto's and sleeping there more than at the Hub. Even so, with the various emergencies and Weevil hunts Jack realised they had never spent every night of a whole week together. He did a quick calculation. In that three years, they had probably shared a bed for some part of the night on only a couple of hundred occasions. They had missed out on so much. Still lost in his melancholy memories, Jack was surprised by movement beside him.

"Am I late?" muttered Ianto, turning to lie on his back.

"No. I just looked in to see if you were okay … and didn't want to leave."

If Ianto was surprised he didn't show it. "I'm glad. We need to talk."

"Talk? That's what you want to do?" chuckled Jack. He sealed the bottle of water and placed it on the floor. He was happier about pursuing a relationship with Ianto now he had spoken to Maric. During their time on the Bridge, the two had chatted about this and that and Jack discovered that the midshipman was not romantically involved with Ianto. He enjoyed the sex but did not want commitment.

"We can do the other later." Ianto pulled himself up, rubbed his face and sat with his knees drawn up, looking steadily across at Jack. "How did you survive that radiation? And you had a broken ankle, so Skavo says. That healed real fast. Just who are you?"

"A traveller. I've been a lot of places and seen a lot of things. And a lot of stuff has happened to me and because of me. Some of it good, a lot of it bad." Jack smiled gently. "It would take me a lifetime, your lifetime, to tell you it all."

Watching Jack closely, Ianto was surprised at the weariness and sense of defeat in the man's voice and whole demeanour. He had come on board mysteriously and, after helping repair the crystal drive, joined the crew. He had been helpful and willing, knowledgeable too, and a tower of strength during and after Kendal's attack. Throughout it all, he had been upbeat and Ianto had believed nothing could get Jack down, could dent his good humour and confidence in himself. The man sitting on his bunk now was very different. Was this the real Jack Harkness? Did the confidence hide inner doubt and hurt? He was much more complicated than Ianto had imagined and he thought it might be rewarding to find out what made Jack tick.

"Let's start with how you got here. Where did you come from?"

Jack decided to simplify the story, to ignore the other Ianto Joneses he had met in his travels. "Cardiff of two thousand years ago. I have a device," he dug in the pocket on his right thigh and drew out the wand, "this one, that allows me to jump through space and time." Ianto held out a hand and, after a moment's hesitation, Jack gave it to him. "Don't press anything," he warned.

The slim wand was light in his hand as Ianto gingerly turned it round. It was crudely made with a few small coloured stones attached and depressions that appeared to be buttons of some kind. "Doesn't look much." He handed it back.

Jack returned it to his pocket. "It's alien. I … met someone who got me involved in dealing with alien threats to Earth. Had access to a lot of weird stuff."

"But time travel? I know there's work being done on temporal mechanics but it's still theoretical." Ianto hugged his knees to his chest, the blanket fallen around his waist. "And you know a heck of lot more about crystal drives than any 21st century Earther would."

"Like I said, my life's complicated. And there's lots of alien stuff which can do things we can't even dream of." Jack was not going to get into his own time travelling exploits, it was too problematic. If he stayed with this Ianto there would be time for explanations later. "One of them altered me. It makes me heal fast and stuff that would kill other people doesn't kill me." He leant forward and put a hand on Ianto's raised knees. "But I am human, just with some atoms scrambled."

Neither spoke for several minutes. Jack was about to move when Ianto smiled and put out a hand to cup the back of the other man's head, pulling him closer. He sniffed. "Is that what makes you smell so good?"

"Maybe."

He continued his forward momentum and kissed Ianto's lips. The response was tentative at first but then demanding and soon Jack was forced back as Ianto took over, struggling to get inside the coveralls Jack wore. They wrestled back and forth, hands exploring one another's bodies until Jack gently pushed Ianto away, holding him at arm's length. Both men were breathing hard.

"Are we okay, Ianto? I mean … I'm different …"

"I know. Hell, Jack, we're on a crippled ship, days away from safety and could die at any minute. Who cares about time travel and the rest of it? I want you. Now." He grinned. "I'll worry about the rest of it if we make it to Occidic." Ianto eased out of Jack's hold and captured his lips. "No more talking."

"Just one thing," said Jack, pressed back against the wall, his coveralls open down the front. "That's when we reach Occidic."

With a gurgling laugh, Ianto pushed the coveralls back from Jack's shoulders and began a detailed exploration of his collarbone, chest and stomach, lingering over the nipples and other sensitive spots. The bunk proved too restricting for them, and they used the floor instead, rolling around with first Jack on top and then Ianto. It was a coming together of equals. Both men were used to taking their pleasure where and when they wanted and enjoyed the give and take. When they had satisfied themselves, Ianto dragged the mattress and blanket off the bunk and they curled up together on the floor, wedged against the sofa to prevent themselves rolling down the incline.

"You're good," murmured Ianto, running a finger up and down Jack's chest.

"Thank you. You're not so bad yourself." He had an arm around Ianto's shoulders and squeezed briefly. The sex had been good and he hoped that, in time, they might forge an emotional connection. This was not the Ianto he had lost - he had had a very different background and personality – but it could be as good.

"So I've been told."

Jack's laugh morphed into a yawn. "I need some sleep and so do you."

Checking the time displayed on the computer console, Ianto found he had another three hours before he was back on duty. He wrapped a leg round Jack's and rested his head more comfortably on his chest. "That sounds like a good idea."

Ten minutes later both men were sleeping soundly, their last rest before the next emergency.


	11. Chapter 11

**Phaeton**

Chapter Eleven

Freighters worked by humans operate a three watch cycle of eight hours each, a relic of the twenty four hour days of Earth. With so few surviving crew members, this wasn't possible on _The Phaeton_ and they were working in two twelve hour shifts called day and night for simplicity. The day watch was coming to an end and Ianto Jones sat alone on the Bridge staring out of the view screen. The ship was holding together well as Jack, with Skavo's help, had managed to reconfigure the shields to fit closely round the remaining hull holding it together. With the threat of further hull damage lessened, they had been able to increase speed to 40%. If they continued at this rate they would reach port in five days, twenty two days after leaving the mining planet and precisely on schedule. This news had cheered Captain Loomis like none other could.

With a sigh, Ianto turned back to his navigation station. For the hundredth time that watch, he recalculated their course in an attempt to shave off a few light years and reach port ahead of schedule. The captain's health was deteriorating. He had insisted on coming to the Bridge earlier. The effort had weakened him and after a couple of hours in his chair - receiving status reports from Ianto, Beettle and Jack and discussing progress - he had collapsed and been carried back to his cabin. Jack, the closest they had to a doctor, believed a stray piece of shrapnel might be resting on the captain's lung but did not feel qualified to investigate further unless it was essential. It surprised Ianto how much he cared about Loomis. Since the attack, the man had borne his injuries stoically and made sound decisions showing a leadership not in evidence before.

"All alone?" said Jack Harkness with a smile, walking onto the Bridge. He turned to the makeshift food preparation area and poured himself a coffee from the pot kept hot there.

"Umm. What's happening out there?" They had personal communicators but used them sparingly; power reserves were precarious.

Jack sat in the captain's chair, one leg over the arm, twisted round to face Ianto. "Not much. I told Skavo to rest. I think Beettle's awake, there was movement in his cabin anyway." He sipped his coffee. "Pasten's looking out some supplies for a meal."

"Good." They had two main meals in a twenty four hour period, in the last hour of each watch, when all the survivors gathered for an update. "Any idea what it will be?"

"None. Long as it's hot, I don't care."

They lapsed into silence. Jack was still not sure where he stood with Ianto. They had had sex twice now, fulfilling a need for them both but neither had been an act of love. Jack liked this Ianto, admired his determination to get the failing ship into port and his willingness to take command. Jack was also enjoying the novelty of being led by someone else, of being asked to follow someone else's orders especially when that someone was Ianto. But he wanted to know more about the Ianto behind the tough persona he presented to the world, to find out what made the man tick. He had managed to do it before, with his own Ianto, and been rewarded with a reciprocal love. Could he achieve the same results with this tough spacer? He wanted to, he knew that much, but wasn't sure how. Plus he had yet to explain that there were other versions of Ianto in other realities, one of which Jack had loved. On past experience, he was not expecting that discussion to go well.

Pasten entered the Bridge carrying a pot filled with vegetables. "I'm afraid it'll be a stew again, sir," he reported to Ianto. "These will be uneatable if we don't use them now." The cold store had been destroyed.

"That's all right, Pasten. Anything hot will do." He smiled at the lanky middle aged man whom he had barely known before the attack had thrown the survivors together. As navigator, Ianto had spent his time on the Bridge and had no need to meet the crew who had been responsible for ship maintenance and the cargo.

"Need a hand?" asked Jack lazily.

"No, sir, I can manage." Pasten went to the temporary stove and got on with his task. Freighters did not have strict demarcations between officers and crew but he nonetheless felt out of place on the Bridge. He started chopping the vegetables into bite-sized chunks.

An hour later the meal was ready and they were eating it hungrily. Jack and Ianto had not moved, Beettle was at operations and Maric Ashadel was back at the pilot's station. Livesey and Pasten were sitting on chairs on either side of the stove.

"This is good," said Maric, dipping a piece of stale bread into the stew.

"Sure is," agreed Beettle. He was running an eye over the ship's status checklist before taking command for the night watch. "Jack, how's the drive holding up?"

"Pretty well. You can keep her at this speed without a problem."

"Excellent. Course, Ianto?"

"No changes needed, just keep her on this heading." Ianto passed a small pad containing additional details to Maric who was manning the Bridge for the next twelve hours.

"Ship's systems are all operational, Chief," reported Pasten. "I checked the cargo a couple of hours ago and all was well."

"Good, good." Beettle smiled. "We're in good shape, considering what happened. What about the captain?"

Jack balanced his empty plate on the pilot's station. "Not so good. I'm concerned about his breathing. I'll check on him when we're finished here, but you'll need to keep an eye on him too."

"Will do. How's Skavo?" Beettle had noticed the engineer was missing.

"Doing well but he was pretty tired. I sent him to rest."

"Okay. That's the lot then."

After a bit more discussion, Pasten took himself off to sleep. Ianto stopped for a further word with Maric while Jack went into the captain's cabin. There were irregular pauses in Loomis' breathing and a wet, bubbling sound. The medical scanner showed a shadow near his left lung, clearer than it had been before. There was definitely something in there and it was going to have to be removed - soon. Jack was making further scans, trying to work out how to operate successfully, when Ianto came into the cabin and stood at the foot of the bunk.

"Well?" asked Ianto quietly so as not to disturb the sleeping captain.

With a sigh, Jack straightened up and turned to face him. "We're going to have to operate. Far as I can judge, it's a piece of metal, three or four centimetres long and one or two wide. I think it's pierced the left lung and it's still moving."

Ianto said nothing, watching Jack. For once the man did not look confident and that was worrying. "How soon do we have to …" His voice tailed off.

"No time like the present." Jack was serious and met Ianto's gaze unflinchingly. "But I can't guarantee the outcome."

"If we leave him as he is, he's only going to get worse. Need some help?"

"Please."

The operation took forty tense minutes. With Loomis sedated and Beettle keeping the ship as steady as possible, Jack assembled the equipment he needed. Ianto stripped off Loomis' tunic and eased him down to lie as flat as possible then sterilised his upper body. Using a laser scalpel, Jack cut between the ribs on the left side. With an angled probe, he gently edged under the ribs towards the metal shard while Ianto applied a localised containment field to prevent, as far as possible, blood loss and contamination. After several minutes careful work, Jack located the shard and introduced a gripper, managing to get hold of the shard at the second attempt. He slowly worked it backwards out of the incision, letting out a sigh of relief when it emerged in one piece. Next, he drained the lung of fluid before re-inflating it and sealing the chest incision.

"I think he's breathing a little better," reported Ianto, monitoring the captain's condition.

"Too soon to tell. At least we got it out." Jack felt drained from concentrating so hard. His medical skills had been gleaned from various emergencies encountered during his long life. While he was competent at mending bones and treating burns, his surgical skills were rudimentary at best.

Together, the two men covered up the captain and put him in a more comfortable position. Jack settled into a chair, prepared to stay and watch over him for the next few hours. Ianto left, reappearing fifteen minutes later with a bottle of absinthe and two glasses.

"You earnt this," he said, pouring out a large measure and handing it to Jack. He poured a smaller one for himself and sat on the floor at Jack's feet.

"Cheers," said Jack wearily.

"Skol." They sipped the warming liquid. Ianto shuffled round so he could rest an arm on Jack's knees and look up at him. "Where did you learn to do that?"

"Here and there."

"You looked like you knew what you were doing."

"Must be a better actor that I thought!" Jack smiled down at his companion. "I've seen it done before," he added, "but not done it myself. It's harder than I imagined."

Ianto nodded then rested his head on Jack's knee. His curly hair fell down to hide his face and Jack reached over to push it back at the same time that Ianto went to do the same. Their hands met and grasped tightly. Neither man spoke, their joined hands saying more than words. Keeping his face averted, staring into his glass, Ianto was the one who broke the silence.

"You're a man of many talents, Jack Harkness."

"Is that a good thing?"

"Means you'd never be boring." Ianto sipped his drink.

With a chuckle, Jack replied, "Want to stick around me long enough to find out?" By keeping his voice light, he gave Ianto the choice of a flippant reply or an honest answer.

Ianto released Jack's hand and turned to look up at the other man. "I just might." Then he knelt between Jack's knees and gave him a long, probing kiss. "It might be worth the effort."

"You saying I'm an effort?" Jack heard the quiver in his voice, hope getting the better of him.

The two men were kissing again when their communicators squawked into life. _"All personnel to the Bridge! Emergency! All personnel to the Bridge!" _It was Maric's voice and he sounded panicked.

With a startled look at one other, Ianto raced from the cabin. Jack stopped long enough to check Loomis had not been disturbed then walked swiftly out after Ianto. The Bridge seemed full of people, even Skavo was there, as Jack entered.

"Then we use spacesuits," said Ianto, grimly determined.

"What's going on?" asked Jack of no one in particular.

"The besquite on level six has gone critical. Beettle's down. The fumes got him." Ianto was struggling into a spacesuit as he spoke. "Livesey got a whiff too. He's on level four. Raised the alarm and now we can't get a response from him."

"I'll get the med kit."

"Maric, you're in command until we know what's going on. Pasten, get suited up and follow us. Everyone keep your communicators with you."

Jack was on Ianto's heels as the two men headed off the Bridge to deal with the latest emergency. Pasten was a couple of minutes behind them.

* * *

_Will they survive this latest emergency? _


	12. Chapter 12

**Phaeton**

Chapter Twelve

Livesey was lying in a heap near the bottom of the stairs on level four. He was very still as Ianto clattered down towards him, the large boots of the spacesuit making it awkward to walk. Jack pushed past Ianto and knelt beside the fallen man, running the medical scanner over him.

"Well?" demanded Ianto, watching intently. He coughed, something catching at the back of his throat.

"He's alive." He looked up as he spoke, his concerned expression turning to anger. "Damn it, Ianto, you won't be it you don't get your helmet on!" Jack stood and faced the other man. "Can't you taste the besquite fumes!"

"I thought it was smoke." Ianto looked shamefaced as he hurriedly donned the helmet and sealed it at the neck. Jack checked the integral air supply and ensured it fed oxygen into the suit.

Pasten came down the stairs towards them, his helmet already in place. He worked with the besquite every day, ensuring it was kept cool and stable and knew how dangerous the fumes could be if breathed in for too long. They were colourless and odourless but deadly. He glanced down at Livesey and then up at Jack, his stricken expression saying more than words even through the helmet faceplate.

"He's alive," Jack told him, putting a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "I'll get him to the Med Bay and see what I can do to keep him that way." He turned back to face Ianto who was moving to the stairs leading down to level five. "Call me when you find Beettle. And Ianto, no stupid risks."

"All right. Come on, Pasten."

The two suited men went down the stairs, placing their feet carefully. Jack, coughing a little himself, picked up Livesey and put him over his shoulder before making his way up to level three. At the top, he shut the bulkhead door sealing off the lower levels; it was imperative to contain the fumes. In the Med Bay, he lay Livesey on the examination table and hooked him up to oxygen before scanning him once more. The fumes were poisonous, constricting the trachea and lungs as they were inhaled until eventually they closed the airways completely. Livesey had breathed them in for at least ten minutes but it appeared he may have got away with it; his trachea was still open and a small amount of oxygen was getting through. Digging in the med kit strapped to his waist, Jack found the antihistamine he wanted and loaded it into a hypospray and administered it through the skin at the base of the neck. Next, he rigged up a drip to Livesey's arm, an old fashioned treatment but it was a simple way to get more of the drug into his system.

Hearing a noise in the corridor outside, Jack poked his head out of the door. "What the hell are you doing here?" he demanded.

"I thought I could help." Skavo was feeling his way down the corridor, both hands on the wall and feet shuffling forward, wary of obstacles.

"You're too conscientious for your own good." Jack stepped forward and took one of Skavo's arms. "Come in here. You can have a shot of this before you do anything."

In the Med Bay, Jack gave Skavo and himself a dose of the antihistamine as a precaution. Livesey was unconscious but breathing steadily if shallowly and Jack left him, leading Skavo to the engine room.

"Put me by the environmental controls, sir," said the engineer. "It should be possible to flush the cargo bays and get rid of the fumes."

Jack did as he was bid. "These controls are in bad shape, Skavo. There was a lot of fire damage over here."

"Let me see … feel them." He may not be able to see but was the only one of the survivors with an intimate knowledge of the ship's systems.

"Okay." Jack stepped back and used the communicator to raise Maric Ashadel on the Bridge. "Maric, it's Jack. Livesey's alive and in Med Bay. Any news of Ianto and Pasten?"

"_No sign of Chief Beettle on level five. They've gone down to six." _

"All right. Skavo and I will see if we can flush the fumes out of those levels. I've sealed off level four and below so it won't get any further into the ship."

"_Understood. I was wondering, sir, couldn't we get rid of the fumes by dumping the besquite?"_

"We could. But without the cargo we have no ballast and without ballast the ship will lose what little stability it has."

"_Oh. Sorry, sir, I didn't realise." _

"That's okay, Maric, no reason why you should. Keep in touch with the others and let me know what's happening."

"_Aye, sir."_

The environmental controls were partly melted but by scrabbling about within the panel, Jack was able to access working elements and cobble together an interface of sorts. He proceeded carefully, calling on Skavo's superior knowledge, anxious not to adversely affect the life support system which used many of the same relays. Twenty minutes after starting, they were ready to try it and activated the filters on level four followed by level five and, when nothing blew up, finally levels six and seven. With the filters working, the fumes would be flushed out but Jack couldn't tell for sure without checking personally; the internal sensors were still off-line and his own scanner was not calibrated for gases. He needed to go below anyway. The besquite was giving off fumes because some of it was too warm; the problem wouldn't be solved until it was cooled and he could help with that.

"I'm going down there," said Jack, "help locate the problem. I'm guessing it's on level six where Beetle is. Stay here and mind the shop."

"The shop?" queried Skavo bewildered.

Jack chuckled. "Monitor the board, Skavo, monitor the board."

Toolkit in hand, Jack left the engine room, checked on Livesey – breathing more easily now – and proceeded down to level six. He wondered what he would find down there. The updates he had received were not encouraging but he had to trust that Ianto and Pasten knew what they were doing. Beettle had been found in cargo bay beta, lying on top of the besquite below a narrow walkway, and Pasten had been trying to devise a way of getting to him.

Levels four and five were free of fumes but some lingered on level six and he was grateful for the mask he had brought with him; no need to add to the emergency by dying. He put the mask over his nose and mouth to keep out the worst and headed through the door in front of him. The three cargo bays were huge rounded spaces of gleaming metal, larger at the bottom than the top like large teardrops, with a metal grillwork walkway all around the outside close to the wall. Two more walkways, one running north/south and the other east/west, were suspended from the ceiling and formed a cross above the cargo below. Beta bay was full so the top of the besquite was two and a half metres below the walkways, the surface undulating as the sandy mineral shifted with each movement of the ship. The orange spacesuits stood out against the white of the besquite and the grimy surroundings. One figure was lying on the east/west walkway holding the legs of another who was hanging upside down trying to attach a lifeline to a body – Beettle - lying half covered by the besquite. It was an awkward manoeuvre at best made worse by the restricting spacesuits. Even as Jack stood watching, the dangling figure made a wild swing to catch the body below and missed, jerking his legs from the grip of the man holding him.

Jack ran up to help, relieved when he found it was Ianto on the walkway and not in the shifting cargo beneath. "What can I do?" he shouted, hitting Ianto's shoulder to get his attention.

Startled, Ianto looked up. The spacesuit protected him from fumes but it deadened his hearing and he had been unaware of Jack's approach. It had been a frustrating twenty minutes for Ianto as he and Pasten had attempted to reach Beetle, stranded in the besquite below. The harnesses, used by the crew when stirring the cargo, were hopelessly tangled and they'd wasted vital minutes trying to get one to work before resorting to the single strap lifeline. With Jack to lend a hand, they might be able to get the two men back up safely. He noted that Jack was still without a spacesuit.

"The fumes? Can I take this off?" Ianto indicated the helmet.

"Yes, we've got rid of the worst." Jack removed the med kit from round his waist and deposited it next to the toolkit. He looked over the railing and saw Pasten had attached the lifeline to himself and pulled Beettle's head clear of the besquite, holding it above the surface. "Got another lifeline?"

"May be one over there." Ianto had removed the helmet and was pushing back his sweaty hair.

Jack found one and made sure both lifelines were securely rigged to the harness points before throwing the second to Pasten who attached it to Beettle. Ianto and Jack took the strain on Beettle's line and hauled him up, hand over hand. Ianto braced himself against the railing and got his hands under Beetle's shoulders and pulled him the last few centimetres. With Ianto holding Pasten's lifeline taut so he was not sucked under, Jack took a couple of minutes to check Beettle.

"Doesn't look good," he reported. "He's barely breathing." He gave him a shot of antihistamine.

"Let's get Pasten up, then we can get out of here." Ianto's face was set. He and Beettle had served together on _The Phaeton_ for a couple of years and were friends. He did not want to lose him, they had lost too many good men already.

The two men bent to their task and hauled up Pasten as fast as they could, helping him clamber over the railing to safety. Outside the cargo bay, Ianto and Pasten put down Beettle to catch their own breath. Jack had stopped to retrieve the lifelines in case they might be needed again and joined them, carrying his equipment.

"Let me give you both a shot of this," he said, taking out the antihistamine again, "it'll help." Kneeling on the deck, he made a more detailed examination of Beettle. "I need to work on him."

"Sir, we need to find out where the cargo is heating." Pasten had a hand on Ianto's arm, tugging to get his attention.

"Right. Jack, you work on Beettle."

The two men were off at a run into gamma bay. It was clear from the moment they entered that this was where the trouble lay; a patch of besquite near the left-hand side was glowing a dull orange. Pasten took charge immediately, activating the stirring equipment and directing it to the patch of over-heated besquite. He issued terse instructions to Ianto and between them they got the paddle in motion. In less than ten minutes the ominous orange colour had faded as the stirring and the continuing filtering of the air reduced the patch of heat.

"We can lower the setting now, sir," said Pasten. "Danger's over."

"For now," responded Ianto. "We need to check all the other cargo bays. And I want to know what caused it in the first place."

"Good idea." Jack was standing on the walkway nearby, hands in his pockets. "Beettle didn't make it."

"Damn. What else is going to wrong!"

No one had an answer for him.


	13. Chapter 13

**Phaeton**

Chapter Thirteen

The cabin was lit only by the dim emergency lights but this was sufficient for Ianto Jones to see across to the computer console on the opposite wall. He had been staring at it for a long time, watching the digits of the clock change. As weary as he was Ianto could not sleep, recent events going round and round in his mind. It was two days since they had lost Beettle, suffocated by the besquite fumes. Livesey had recovered but this still meant they had only five able-bodied men to run the ship that had a normal complement of twenty one, and that was without the complications created by the damage _The Phaeton_ had suffered as a result of the attack. They were working all hours keeping the ship together and Ianto feared that in their tiredness they would make mistakes. And it would only take one to finish off what Kendal and Feugard had started. They were at least four days from Occidic spaceport and Ianto's confidence in their survival was at rock bottom as he anticipated yet more hazards that could befall them. One in particular.

His own exhaustion and the heavy weight of responsibility on his shoulders was also weighing him down. He was the senior officer on board – not counting Captain Loomis who was not fully recovered from Jack's surgery – and it had fallen to him to organise, encourage and motivate the other survivors. Ianto had become a spacer to travel and get away from the confines of his home on Earth, to experience new worlds and races without too much responsibility along the way. He liked being an officer but had no desire to be a captain. And yet that, to all intents and purposes, was exactly what he had become. The pressure was taking its toll.

Sighing, he shuffled round again trying to get more comfortable. He desperately needed sleep after days with scarcely any but it wouldn't come. Perhaps he should have accepted the sedative Jack had offered. And that was something else to worry about, the enigma of Jack Harkness. A man who could survive exposure to radiation, healed quickly and with a peculiar background to boot. So far, Ianto had not shared this knowledge with anyone else, preferring to keep the man's eccentricities to himself, but they would have to be addressed at some time. For now, Jack was needed to get _The Phaeton_ to safety. He had taken on oversight of the cargo and ship's operations, seeming to be everywhere at once and not bothered by lack of sleep. Was Jack a pathological liar? An alien of some kind? And why did he have to be so damned attractive? When they reached port, Ianto would have to decide what to do about the man and at the moment he had no idea.

With all this on his mind, Ianto gave up trying to sleep. He dragged on the coveralls he had discarded a couple of hours earlier and left the cabin for the Bridge.

Maric looked up when the door swooshed open. "Sir," he said with a smile which faltered a little when he saw how rumpled and tired Ianto looked.

"Where's Jack?" He went to the coffee pot and poured himself some; it helped keep him alert. Ianto had arranged for either he or Jack to oversee the inexperienced Maric and yet Jack was missing.

"Doing a check of the ship. He was in the engine room when he called in five minutes ago."

Ianto used the comms to check on him. "Jack, you there?"

"_Uh-huh. Everything looks all right down here. Need me?" _

"No, just checking." He was reassured to hear Jack's voice and some of his irritation disappeared. Jack may be an enigma and a law unto himself but he had been reliable so far. Ianto hoped his trust was not misplaced.

"_Pasten and I stirred all the cargo. He's checking the bulkheads now. I'm about to come back up." _

"Right. See you shortly." Ianto cut the connection, took a sip of the coffee and sat in the captain's chair. "Status report, Maric."

"All systems operational, well, as operational as they can be." The boy smiled. "Still on course. ETA unchanged. Nothing showing up on sensors."

"Good work. How are you holding up?" His tone was softer, that of a friend and sometime lover.

The boy was as fresh-faced as ever but there was a maturity in his bearing which had not been there at the start of the trip. His confidence had grown after Kendal's attack when he had been called upon to face his fears in order to keep _The Phaeton_ moving. Maric had learnt a lot from observing his fellow survivors, amazed at how they faced up to and overcame all the difficulties thrown at them. He was too young to realise that their professionalism masked their own fears and uncertainties, seeing them as heroes.

"I'm fine, thanks. You still look tired," he ventured.

"Couldn't sleep." He managed a reassuring smile then levered himself out of the chair, downing his coffee in one draught. "I'll check on the captain."

"Aye, sir."

In the corridor outside, Ianto heard the anti-grav lift and waited for it. Jack stepped off and smiled broadly. "That's nice, a welcoming committee."

"I was about to look in on Captain Loomis." Beside Jack, tireless as always, Ianto felt even more lethargic and clumsy if that was possible. "I'd welcome your opinion on him."

"You should be in bed, you can't have got any sleep." Ianto's face was drawn and there were dark circles under his eyes.

"I'm all right," lied Ianto.

"It won't help us if you're exhausted." Jack was not taken in, recognising the Jones stubbornness. It was amazing how alike the various versions of Ianto were in this respect.

"I know!" snapped Ianto. "I know," he repeated more softly leaning back against the wall. "As I lay there, not able to sleep," he went on, "I realised we have more to worry about. We're going to be entering the main traffic lanes soon and we're bound to be spotted by the scavengers. We're easy meat, Jack." He felt better for giving voice to his fears.

Scavengers and pirates operated around large spaceports ready to pounce on any ship that was known to be carrying a valuable cargo. Normally besquite would not attract their interest but in its current state _The Phaeton_ was an attractive prospect for a smash and grab raid. The fact it was a Hyperion Corporation ship might deter some – the Corporation had influence – but the more reckless or desperate scavengers could well take a chance, seize the cargo and destroy the ship before heading off to another galaxy and making a quick sale. The crew might be killed or, more likely, taken for the slave markets; humans were popular. The threat had been haunting Ianto for the last few hours.

"You could be right." Jack frowned as he considered this new threat. "We're going to have to rig up something to put them off."

"Like what?" Ianto prompted. "We have no weapons, don't forget." The freighter was lightly armed but the weapons system had been disabled by Feugard before he abandoned them.

"Not sure yet. Have to think about it."

"Don't do anything before talking with me." Having Jack on the crew was like having a tiger by the tail - let go of him and one never knew what would happen next.

"Yes, sir!" He saluted before laughing, clapping the other man on the shoulder. "We'll avoid 'em, Ianto, don't worry."

"I can't help but worry. It's all very well to say we'll be all right but what if we're not?" Ianto was standing facing Jack now, his body taut and hands curled into fists as he tried to make Jack understand the seriousness of their position.

"There's no point worrying about what happened yesterday or what might happen tomorrow." Jack recognised that Ianto was seriously concerned, exhaustion preventing him putting his fears into perspective. "It's too late for the first and you can't change the second. With a bit of rest, you'll be ready to face whatever comes your way."

Ianto shook his head in disgust. "Why do you have to be so damned optimistic?"

"Someone needs to be. Now, let's go take a look at the captain then you're going back to bed." He strode off.

Ianto followed more slowly muttering, "Oh no I'm not."

Loomis was sitting up with notepads and star charts on the bed around him. Following the operation to remove a metal fragment from his chest, his breathing had improved considerably and consequently his overall condition. He was alert and mostly free of pain. An early attempt to get up had reopened his wounds and forced him back to bed but he had insisted on writing up the ship's log which is what was occupying him now.

"Ah, gentlemen, what news?" Loomis caught sight of Ianto's frowning features and became alarmed. "Mr Jones, something wrong?"

"No, sir." Ianto attempted a smile. "We're getting on well. No complications." He decided not to bother him with his own worries.

"Ianto's been working too hard, that's all," said Jack. "But let's take a look at you. How are you feeling?" He ran the medical scanner over Loomis' chest and stomach.

The examination continued, Loomis protesting he was fully healed and Jack counselling caution. Watching the pair of them, Ianto thought they were enjoying the argument. It ended with Jack agreeing that Loomis could get out of bed for the next meal – they now all ate together – to see how the wound seals held up. Delighted with this news, Loomis was animated as Ianto and Jack reported on the state of the ship and handed over memory chips for incorporation in the log.

Back in the corridor, Ianto remarked, "He looks so much better. You did a good job."

"I did, didn't I? Sometimes I amaze myself," he preened. "Now, time for you to get some real sleep. Want a sedative?"

"No. And we need to sort out how to keep off the scavengers."

"Later. I need to have a chat with Skavo about it first." They were beside the lift and Jack turned to face Ianto, blocking the way to the Bridge. "I need you at the top of your game and that means you need to rest. Please, Ianto?" He brushed the back of his hand against the Welshman's cheek.

"I suppose," he said grudgingly. Ianto knew that he had to get some rest before he collapsed, but how? "I can't stop my brain long enough to get to sleep."

Jack smiled. "I know something that might work, and no, I don't mean sedatives." What he had in mind had worked for his Ianto so it should work for this version.

In the cabin, Jack undressed Ianto and got him into the bunk, tucking the covers under his chin before lying on top of them, arms wrapped round Ianto, pulling him close. Ianto gave up the fight with a deep sigh and relaxed tense muscles, closing his eyes gratefully. He was so tired even Jack's scent did not arouse him, instead it soothed him further, easing his tension. Jack murmured calming words while stroking the Welshman's back and arm. Ten minutes later, Ianto was dozing and fifteen minutes after that he was snoring. Jack stayed for a little longer, making sure he was properly asleep, before easing from the bunk and dropping a kiss on the sleeping man's brow. He snuck out of the room as quietly as he could.


	14. Chapter 14

**Phaeton**

Chapter Fourteen

It took Jack twelve hours to come up with a workable defence to potential boarders. _The Phaeton_ could not be defended against anyone determined to blow it apart but scavengers after the cargo needed to keep the ship intact which gave the crew a chance to repel them. The problem had been going round and round in his brain as he manned the Bridge, checked the crystal drive, monitored the besquite and all the hundred and one other tasks that kept the ship together. Despite the dangerous condition of the ship, Jack was enjoying himself. He liked being needed and to have a purpose again after mooching around feeling sorry for himself. Even drinking and sex palled after a while, especially when the one he wanted to share both with was not there. It was much more rewarding to be helping others, just as The Doctor had shown him all those years ago. He was in this happy frame of mind, humming a tune only half remembered, when Ianto found him.

"Hey. Captain said you had some ideas to put to us." Ianto had his hands in his pockets and was smiling at Jack who was bent over the crystal drive. Ianto looked much better for his solid ten hours sleep, shower and shave. The clean coveralls were not a perfect fit, they had been scrounged from Mux's cabin, but they completed the transformation.

"That I do." He straightened and smiled back. "I'll just finish up here." He closed the hatch over the crystal and watched the gauge. They were still travelling at 40% of maximum speed and the drive needed regular adjustment.

"I hear Loomis has been on the Bridge since the last meal."

"He's doing all right. As long as he doesn't overdo it, he'll be okay." With a final look at the crystal, Jack moved across the engine room. "You are looking …"

"Rested, I know," Ianto rolled his eyes. "Sorry I was such a grouch about it. And you were right, a bit of sleep and everything looks better." He stepped forward and slipped his arms round Jack's waist, placing a kiss on his lips. "Thanks."

"My pleasure, especially when I get rewards like this."

The kiss continued for a moment then they drew back. Neither was sure exactly where they stood with the other nor had the opportunity to find out. Until they had brought _The Phaeton _to safety, assuming they would, both were keeping things casual.

"Better not keep the captain waiting."

Ianto led the way out, chatting about the other crew members. Pasten and Livesey worked turn and turn about monitoring the ship and cargo under Jack's direction. Maric pulled a full shift on the Bridge and mucked in where he could, often making the meals. Skavo split his duty time between the engine room and Bridge where Jack had rigged up tactile controls that the blinded engineer could operate alone. Ianto's time had been spent exclusively on the Bridge but this duty could now be shared with Captain Loomis, easing the load on his shoulders.

Quarter of an hour later, Ianto sat with a plate of heated up fish pie. The food was hot but tasteless and he missed the old cook, Cwellazell, even though he had been cantankerous and a law unto himself. He brought his thoughts back to the present when Loomis cleared his throat.

"How much of a threat do you think scavengers will be, Ianto? I mean, we've never had any trouble before."

"We've never been a crippled ship with a skeleton crew before. Occidic is relatively well policed but there were still a dozen hijackings last year."

"For precious metals and jewels," Loomis pointed out. "Besquite isn't something scavengers go after."

"Not as a rule, no. But it sells anywhere, can't be traced and would be a tempting target for the more desperate." He took a forkful of pie and chewed.

"Possibly. I suppose we have to consider it anyway." Loomis checked the star chart on the display built into his chair. "We're less than two days from Occidic and about to join the main traffic lanes. That's when we'll be most vulnerable, when we're too far from the port for a patrol to pick us up on sensors."

"Our present course gives us sixteen hours before we enter the danger zone. And it'll be another three or four before we're in range of the patrols." Ianto looked over at Jack. "Any chance of more speed?"

"I wouldn't recommend it. It's only the shields keeping the structure together now. Any more stress and we're in danger of shaking to bits."

Loomis looked thoughtful. "So we can't outrun any attackers. We can't fight them either as what weapons we had were destroyed. Frankly I don't see what we can do."

"We use a bit of trickery to buy time and if that doesn't work, we make it too costly for anyone who tries to board us," Jack said confidently. They were the only ones on the Bridge. Livesey was on a routine patrol of the ship checking the operational systems and everyone else was sleeping. "It's all done with mirrors."

"What?" Ianto put aside his empty plate and stared quizzically at Jack. "What are you talking about?"

"Yes, Mr Harkness, I think you'd better explain." Loomis shifted in his seat. His stomach and chest wounds were sealed but he still felt some tightness if he stayed in one position for too long.

"I've still got to work out some of the kinks, but here goes," said Jack referring to the display on the engineering station where he was sitting. "First, the trickery. The best defence is to make us a less vulnerable target and to do that I propose we reconfigure the holo installation. You use it for recreation but it's got a lot more going for it than that. By projecting an image of a heavily armed ship with empty cargo holds most scavengers will ignore us."

"You can do that? asked Ianto. "Won't sensors see through the illusion?"

"Not the way I plan to do it. There is a drawback." Jack paused and looked serious. "The power drain will be significant. I think," he stressed the word, "it'll hold for four hours and not affect our speed but there will come a point when we have to choose between speed and the illusion."

"We have to maintain our current speed," said Loomis, "no compromise on that."

"I agree. We may be picked up by patrols in time but if we're not, the illusion will have to be taken off-line."

"And we'll be back to square one," pointed out Ianto.

"No, we'll be much nearer Occidic. Scavengers attacking us at that point would have to be really desperate but in case there are any, I suggest electromagnetic pulses. A couple of those when a scavenger ship is near will generate a field, a short lived one to be sure, but it should be enough to scramble their circuits and keep them from latching on to us."

"Any such field could scramble our circuits too. And where's the power to come from?" asked Loomis. It seemed a desperate measure to him.

"We can shield our essential functions but the pulses will take most of our power. I calculate we'd be able to generate two pulses. After that …" Jack shrugged, "we'll be out of options." At that point, the ship would be completely defenceless.

The three men discussed the plan further, going into detail and considering variations as well as other options. It soon became clear that Jack's plan offered the best chance of success and he was given the go-ahead to proceed. Without saying it out loud, all three of them knew this was the last throw of the dice and that it might be a gamble that didn't come off. After all they had been through, all the distance they had travelled, they were still far from safe.

-ooOoo-

The sonic waves cascaded round Jack as he took a much-needed shower. He had been crawling in the ducting for six hours, adapting the holo relays and reconfiguring the projectors. It had been fiddly work in cramped conditions. Before he began the painstaking work of building the image he wanted to project, he was taking time to freshen up and clear his mind. He was still in the shower when he heard someone enter the cabin and call his name.

"Jack?"

"Just a minute." He turned off the shower and walked out into the room. As he wasn't wet there was no need for a towel and he didn't bother with it for any other reason. "What's up?"

"Me if you don't put some clothes on." Ianto grinned.

Jack halted on his way to the bunk where his least dirty coveralls waited. "Then I'll stay like this." There was no mistaking the glint in his eye, not that Ianto was looking at Jack's eyes.

"We shouldn't." Ianto managed to drag his eyes up to Jack's face even as he denied the hope that had brought him here.

"Why not?" Jack moved closer, seeing his need reflected in Ianto's expression. "We may not get another chance."

Ianto frowned, his anticipation replaced with guilt. "I know. But should we …"

With a gentle hand, Jack rubbed at the lines between Ianto's eyebrows. "We're doing all we can to avoid any traps. Stop worrying and … let's make what could be our last few hours ones to remember." He kissed the frown lines.

"Gods, you have a way with you." Ianto took a shuddering breath and smiled. "Come here." He reached out and grabbed Jack's bare arse, pulling their bodies together.

They came together without ceremony, both wanting the other and not afraid to take. Hands, mouths and teeth searched and found, bringing pleasure in their wake. At some point, Ianto's clothes were discarded and the cabin door locked but neither man was sure who was responsible. At various times they were on the sofa and on the bunk but they ended up with Jack bent over the desk as Ianto entered him from behind. They came explosively and fell panting onto the sofa, a tangle of arms and legs.

"I'm going to need another shower," panted Jack. "Care to join me?"

"Try and stop me."

They stayed where they were for several more minutes, to let their breath return to normal and because they liked being close, bare skin touching. Jack knew why he was attracted to Ianto but he wondered what it was about himself that drew Ianto. Was it his 51st century pheromones alone? He hoped not. Over the past few days, as they had battled to keep the ship secure and moving, he had discovered new aspects of Ianto's personality which were different from those of the Ianto he had lost. This version of Ianto was less vulnerable and more focussed and had a greater drive and self-confidence. It was an attractive mix which Jack found intriguing; he wanted to get to know him better.

Ianto rose gracefully. "You coming?" He walked slowly to the shower room, his hips moving sexily, stopping when he reached the door to look back over his shoulder. His smile was sultry as he said, "Well?"

Like a shot, Jack was on his feet and striding across the cabin, his grin stretching from ear to ear. He may have only hours left with this man and he was going to make the most of them.


	15. Chapter 15

**Phaeton**

Chapter Fifteen

There was no change in the stars outside the view screen but Ianto felt a shiver travel up his spine just the same. _The Phaeton _was about to move into the main traffic lanes, the protected route that all ships used to approach Occidic spaceport. This part of the Talleq galaxy was known for meteor storms and gravity wells that made other approaches hazardous, far too hazardous to risk a crippled ship. All Ianto's senses were on the alert as he checked and double checked their position.

"Entering main approaches," he announced, his voice firm and steady.

"Mr Harkness, are you ready?" asked Captain Loomis from his chair. He was as alert as Ianto, fingers lightly gripping the chair arm.

"Just a moment." Jack was at the engineering station with Skavo at operations, the neighbouring workstation. Fingers danced over the board as Jack made final adjustments to the complex program he had written and installed. "Okay, ready."

"Engage."

With just two taps on the controls, Jack initiated the program. To those on the Bridge nothing changed but any ship watching would have seen the ship's profile alter from an unarmed near-wreck laden with a cargo of besquite to an undamaged, moderately armed freighter with empty cargo holds. Luckily, there was no ship watching to challenge the illusion. Not yet anyway.

"Still nothing on sensors," reported Maric Ashadel at the pilot's station. His face was alight with a mix of fear, excitement and hope. Fear of attack, excitement at the thought of outwitting scavengers and hope that, after everything that had happened to them, they would reach port safely.

Skavo spoke up, his hands operating the controls on the Operations station as if he had always been blind. "Power down 2%, within acceptable parameters."

"Great. Keep an eye on that," replied Jack as he monitored his board closely. It was working. Everyone on the Bridge grew cautiously optimistic.

The illusion was maintained for another three hours and forty three minutes. In that time, they picked up two ships at the very furthest reaches of sensors but neither approached any closer. Nor had they displayed the distinctive profile of patrol ships which were sent to check all approaching ships; Occidic spaceport operated strict criteria for entry and deterred any unwanted vessel with a judicious shot across the bows. If this wasn't heeded in time, the next shot took out the shields and drive. No freighters took on a patrol ship and got away with it. The intricate holo projection was finally taken down when the power drain reached 30%, the critical point at which speed would otherwise have to be reduced.

"Holo projectors off-line," reported Jack. "Everyone can see what we are now." He glanced up and caught sight of Ianto's worried frown. The entire crew was on the Bridge and the atmosphere was tense.

"How far out are we?" asked Loomis, swinging round to look at Ianto.

"We're eight parsecs from port, sir, one from where we are assured to be picked up by the patrols."

"Then we should expect to see a patrol in the next hour." Loomis made his voice as confident as he could; patrols did not work to a set pattern and they couldn't guarantee one would come across them immediately especially if they happened to be dealing with another vessel. "Mr Ashadel, I want to know the moment there's anything, absolutely anything, on sensors."

"Aye, sir."

"What are the chances of other freighters?" asked Jack. He was sitting back, easing cramped shoulder muscles after being hunched over his workstation for the past four hours. "Must be others heading our way."

"It's not the busiest right now. The main growing season is over so the agri-freighters are in dock for overhaul." Loomis absently rubbed his stomach wound as he spoke, from habit rather than discomfort. "There might be one or two."

"They'd be useful for cover, maybe even get into convoy with us."

"We can't communicate with them," said Ianto, looking up briefly before returning his attention to meticulously plotting their position. "No comms, remember."

"Have to try something else then." The tension was getting to Jack as much as to the others and he wanted something to keep him busy. He began working on non-verbal communications, remembering all the many forms he had used in his long life, and assessing which of _The Phaeton's_ systems could be cannibalised for use. Unfortunately there weren't many which hadn't already been redirected for other purposes nevertheless he kept at it.

Half an hour passed. Pasten made coffee for them all and passed round some fruit biscuits but no one had much of an appetite. Ianto sipped his drink and allowed himself a glimmer of hope. It was a miracle the ship had got this far. The odds of surviving the surprise attack by Kendal and the treachery of Feugard, escaping from the gravity of Fant, travelling many parsecs through the wastelands and avoiding disaster when the cargo overheated were long indeed. Safety was so close, so very close. Over the rim of his mug, he saw Jack and Skavo with their heads together, working on yet another of their engineering marvels. It was these two men, and Jack in particular, who had been the difference between failure and success. How different it would have been if Jack had not appeared on board and helped them.

While still watching his board for any hint of a problem, Ianto let his mind return to his last encounter with Jack. After a second shag in the shower, Jack had started to talk about life in Cardiff in the 21st century and what he did there. It was all quite fantastical yet interesting but when it had become obvious how distressing it was for Jack to speak of it, Ianto had stopped him. He didn't need to know about the man's background if it was so painful, better to let it be another of those mysteries that he could unravel when they had more leisure, when the danger was past. He was looking forward to finding out more about this strange man who had landed so providentially on _The Phaeton_.

"A ship on sensors, sir!" Maric's anxious voice, higher pitched than normal, cut across the conversations and thoughts of all those on the Bridge.

"Coordinates?" snapped out Loomis.

"693 by 42 by 0.32."

"It's to starboard, sir," added Ianto, "three million kilometres and closing. It's on a parallel course."

"Patrol ship?" Loomis was peering at his small personal display and could not decide from the information he was getting. Jack and Skavo had worked wonders to get instruments and sensors working but the definition and range was still woeful.

"Unclear -"

"It's changing course, sir," interrupted Maric, his rushed words at odds with Ianto's measured tones. "It's moved to intercept!"

"Thank you, Mr Ashadel. Take a breath." The captain was calm and he smiled at the young midshipman to steady him; the emergency had brought out the best in Loomis. "Mr Jones, you were saying?"

"Not a patrol, sir."

Ianto's words only added to the tension. The fragile optimism had vanished and everyone was again on edge, either peering at displays or out of the view screen. How could they have come so far only for their hopes to be dashed? It wasn't fair.

At the Engineering station, Jack kept his head down working on the electromagnetic pulses that were their last line of defence. They had enough power for two pulses and their optimum range was half a million kilometres. At that distance, the pulse would create a field of highly charged particles between the ships and scramble the attacker's instruments, especially sensors, and buy _The Phaeton_ some time. It would not be much time, however, as any competent crew would have systems back on-line in five to ten minutes. But that was time _The Phaeton_ could use to move closer to Occidic and the possible protection of a patrol ship.

As busy as he was, Jack thought back to his last private encounter with Ianto. The sex had been unexpected but satisfying and for the first time Jack had felt an emotional connection with the Welshman and believed it to be reciprocated. Encouraged, he had started to tell Ianto about Torchwood only to have his hopes dashed. Ianto had stopped him before he could explain about the Ianto he had lost and his quest to find his true love. It had been done pleasantly but clearly Ianto, this spacer Ianto, was not interested in knowing anything about Jack's past life. It was a shattering blow. Having opened up, Jack felt embarrassed and rejected; it was clear that this Ianto did not want anything more to do with him. He had been grateful for the work that had kept him busy and out of Ianto's way ever since.

"Two million kilometres, sir," said Ianto, a very slight quaver in his voice. "Approaching vessel appears to be freighter, Gemini class possibly, but I am reading more armament than usual. Hull has been strengthened too."

No one responded. They all knew that scavengers took commercial vessels and modified them, adding weapon systems and increasing hull thickness for added protection. Such ships were a collection of stolen systems cobbled together into a powerful, fast vessel that could prey on others and make a quick getaway. The same could also be said of the crew, a ragtag collection of spacers and spacejocks who, for one reason or another, had left legitimate employment and taken to the rough and ready – and usually violent – life of scavengers for the potential rewards when a prize was captured. Some stayed for a year or two, made some credits and moved on while for others it became a way of life.

Ianto spoke again. "One million kilometres."

"Get ready, Mr Harkness." Loomis was leaning forward, his eyes glued to the view screen where the vessel could now be seen. It was about the same size as _The Phaeton_ but its outline appeared menacing with the additional gun turrets and scarred hull.

"I'm ready as I'll ever be."

Jack looked across at Ianto and assessed the distance between them. It wasn't far, three or four metres, with just the captain's chair and pilot's station in between. If the pulses did not deter the approaching ship, if they were boarded, Jack was not going to watch as another Ianto Jones died. The wand that had brought him to this reality was in his pocket and he intended to use it to get both of them to safety. He had no idea what would happen then, all current evidence pointed to Ianto wanting nothing to do with him, but he would at least know that he had saved this Ianto.

"It's still coming," said Maric, eyes round with fear.

"Six hundred thousand kilometres," added Ianto. He raised his head and found Jack was grinning at him. Did nothing scare this man?

"Everyone, emergency stations. Mr Harkness, the pulses." Loomis wondered if this would be the last order he would ever give.

* * *

_Oh my, will the pulse work?_


	16. Chapter 16

**Phaeton**

Chapter Sixteen

The first electromagnetic pulse stopped the scavenger in its tracks. With all systems off-line, it wallowed in space for seven and half minutes as the crew scrambled around to get the drive, life support and sensors repaired. Once these essential systems were operational again, it surged forward, chasing after the wreck of a ship that had taken them so completely by surprise. The freighter had seemed easy prey but it had hit them hard and unexpectedly - it was going to pay for that.

On board _The Phaeton_ everyone was tense. Speed had been increased to 50% in an effort to put distance between them and the attacker with consequent loss of hull integrity. The whole ship was vibrating and might collapse at any minute but this was ignored - if they didn't get away from the scavenger all would be lost anyway.

"They're underway again. Seven hundred thousand kilometres and closing." This information came from Ianto. He had seen Maric frozen with fear at the pilot's workstation and stepped in to cover for him. The boy was only nineteen and had no experience of this kind of situation, it wasn't surprising he was scared stiff.

Captain Loomis licked his dry lips, watching the viewscreen where the ship could be seen. The pulse had bought some time but would it be enough? They had power for one more pulse but that would fry their own circuits and leave them completely vulnerable. For the hundredth time he considered his options. Was it better to fight to the last, to blow up The Phaeton and make an end to the chase? Or should they surrender? The crew would live but for how long? Scavengers would either kill them, press gang them into service or sell them on the slave markets. It was an impossible choice and one he had to make in seconds.

"Get ready to initiate another pulse," ordered Loomis. "When they're at two hundred thousand kilometres." Life as a slave as not a life he wanted for himself or his remaining crew. He was ready to destroy his ship if necessary.

"Everything's ready," said Jack.

He had been busy in the last few minutes, using the ship's transponder to send a message out to any ship – patrol or otherwise – that might be nearby and willing to come to their aid. He had not told Loomis or anyone else what he was doing as it was such a long shot he did not want to raise their hopes. With a free hand he patted the pocket in the leg of his coveralls; the wand was safe inside, ready to whisk him and Ianto off the ship when necessary. He liked and admired the other men on board but his first priority was and always would be Ianto.

"Four hundred thousand kilometres," intoned Ianto. Keeping busy was his way of suppressing his mounting fear. His controls showed that the scavengers had weapons back on-line. One shot from them and it would be the end for _The Phaeton _and all aboard her.

"A ship! There's another ship!" called Livesey. He and Pasten were with Skavo at Operations.

"Mr Ashadel!" snapped Loomis, startling the young man from his trance-like state. "Report!"

Maric's hands flew over the board before him. "Approaching from port at top speed, sir. It'll intercept in -" He broke off the shouted, "The scavenger is heading away, sir, it's leaving!"

"Approaching ship is a patrol, sir," added Ianto, the hope back in his voice.

"Reducing speed," said Jack not waiting for the order. The ship's shaking and vibration decreased immediately.

"There's a second patrol ship coming up to starboard," said Maric.

There was so much joy and relief in his tone it brought an immediate response from the other men who laughed, cheered and some even hugged one another. Jack contented himself with a grin of success shared with Ianto. They had made it. _The Phaeton_ and her skeleton crew were safe.

-ooOoo-

Five hours after the dramatic rescue, officialdom had taken over.

One patrol ship pursued the scavenger, disabled it and had it in a tractor beam transporting it into Occidic spaceport. The other patrol ship docked with _The Phaeton _and officers came on board to assess the situation, their suspicions soon allayed as the position on board confirmed it was an innocent victim. Messages were sent to the port to detain Kendal and her ship which was docked there. Skavo was whisked off to the patrol ship's medical facility but the others – even Loomis – were given the all clear after a brief examination. As the captain gave his detailed report in the privacy of his quarters, the others were kept busy answering questions and explaining modifications made to systems to the men who were to take over the running of the ship.

Jack was called from the engine room to report to the captain and wearily made his way up to level one. He found Ianto leaning against the wall waiting for him. "You been called in too?" asked Jack with a smile.

"Yep." He pushed himself upright. "I hate this, having to account for every action. And we'll have to do it all again with Hyperion's agents and the insurance people." He pulled a face.

"It's better than the alternative, Ianto." Jack rested his hand on Ianto's shoulder as they walked along the corridor. "We came very close."

"I know." Ianto pressed the buzzer and stepped forward when the door swooshed open to come to attention in front of the desk behind which Loomis was sitting with Captain Sykes of the patrol ship at his side. "Captain."

Jack stood alongside, not quite at attention but not slouching either. "Captain Loomis."

"Thank you for coming, gentlemen. We won't keep you long, you need your rest." Loomis smiled at them, gave a pointed look at Jack and turned his attention to Sykes. "Mr Jones is my navigator and assumed command when I was injured. Mr Harkness joined us at the mining planet as a specialist engineer for this journey. He has been in charge of engineering and operations since the attack." He returned his gaze to the two men but especially Jack who understood. Loomis was giving him a cover story for being on board _The Phaeton_; without it he could be in trouble trying to explain his sudden appearance. "Captain Sykes has some questions for you."

It took only fifteen minutes for Sykes to confirm what he had already been told and to be satisfied with their accounts. "That's all I need for now, thanks. There'll be a Board of Inquiry in due course but I don't think there will be any problems with that. Seems everyone on board did a damn fine job but especially you two."

"Quite right," agreed Loomis. "Now, go and get some rest both of you."

"Just one question, if I may, sir," said Jack. "Engineer Skavo. Is there any news on his injuries?"

"Had a report from my medic just before you came in," said Sykes, leaning back in his chair and reading from a data pad. "Your man is down for an ocular implant soon as we get him back to port. Seems your treatment preserved the optic nerve so he'll be able to see again in no time. Scarring shouldn't be too bad either."

"That's good news. Thank you."

"Dismissed." Loomis smiled, nodded at the two men and they turned smartly and left the cabin.

"What now?" asked Ianto as they strolled along the corridor.

"A long shower and a change of clothes." Jack smiled to hide his sadness. It was time for him to leave and as Ianto had made clear he was not interested in prolonging their acquaintance, Jack would be going alone.

-ooOoo-

_A long way away _

Cardiff was dull and grey that March Saturday afternoon, more like winter than spring. Daffodils in pots and hanging baskets in front of the shops and restaurants bravely tried to stand up against the rain and wind but were battered into submission. Gwen Cooper felt battered too. She was bent into the wind trying to keep a hood on her head – she had given up on the umbrella after it had blown inside out twice – when she bumped into something large and soft.

"Sorry," she said, raising her head. At the same time she wondered why she was the one apologising. Who in their right mind stood in the middle of the pavement on a day like this?

"Hello, Gwen." Jack, hair plastered to his head and greatcoat buttoned up against the wind, smiled at her startled expression.

"Oh my God, Jack!" Gwen flung her arms round him and hugged him tight, oblivious of the weather, her shopping bag which had fallen to the ground and the pedestrians trying to get round them. "This is wonderful! I can't believe it! You're back!"

Amused and moved by her reaction, Jack hugged her back. She was the only one of his team left and represented them all; he didn't ever want to let her go. "You got time for a chat?" he asked when her exclamations had died down and they had moved apart a little.

She was holding both his hands and looked him up and down; he hadn't changed a bit. "Of course I have! You think I wouldn't!" She hit his arm quite hard.

"I didn't know what you were doing. Look, let's go somewhere private, and out of the rain, then we can talk properly." He picked up her bag, took her arm and gently steered her north towards the castle and the Hilton Hotel.

The busy streets, the noise of the traffic and the weather meant they couldn't talk. She didn't mind this, too busy convincing herself that Jack really was here again. When she could, she checked his face for clues about what had happened while he had been gone – some four months in her time – and thought he looked at ease with himself again but not as happy as she had hoped. She followed him without question when he led her across the hotel foyer into the small coffee shop and sat down while he ordered the drinks.

"Tell me, Jack, tell me everything," she said. She pulled her arms out of the sleeves of her damp coat and let it fall over the seat back before taking the coffee Jack handed her. "How long have you been gone? For you, I mean."

"A while. Longer than it's been for you." He draped his wet greatcoat over an empty chair and sat opposite her.

"And?" she prompted. "Come on, Jack, tell me! Did you find him? I want to know everything."

Jack's voice was low and he spoke slowly, thoughtfully. "I found many versions of him, Gwen, lots and lots." Sipping the coffee, he smiled at her impatience and obvious concern. "And none of them could ever replace my … our," he corrected, "Ianto. They all looked like him but they weren't him."

She reached out and put a hand on his arm. "Oh, Jack, I'm so sorry."

"You've got it wrong, Gwen. I needed to understand that. Our Ianto was special, one of a kind. I can't replace him."

"No, I suppose not." She was sorry for Jack who had lost so many people in his long, long life. Now settled with Rhys and the baby, she wanted everyone else to be as happy as her, but especially Jack. She quickly thought of something else to say. "Things have been happening here. The Rift's closed."

"What?"

"It's true. Seems your Doctor closed up gaps in time or something," she waved a hand airily to show it was faintly magical, "and that sorted the Rift too. We still get plenty of aliens dropping by but nothing like as many as before. I'm working with UNIT now."

"If you've let them into the Hub, Gwen Cooper …" he said threateningly, and meaning it. He had kept them out for decades and no matter what else had been going on, and obviously a lot had, he wanted to keep it that way.

She pulled a face. "No, as if I would! I've been helping Martha out. But now you're back -"

"No, Gwen, I'm not back," he said quickly. "I can't stay here, not now. I came to see you then I'm off."

She stared at him. "Again? You're leaving me on my own again?"

He took her hand. "You have never been alone, Gwen. You have your family. Love them, treasure them and never let them go." The words were heartfelt. "Get out of the alien hunting business. Go back to the police, get a desk job and stay out of danger. For me. Please?" It was important that she at least survive to die of old age.

Moved, she found she could not speak for the lump in her throat so merely nodded. A minute or two later she found her voice again. "It's what Rhys wants too," she admitted.

"Then do it. Bloke deserves that much for what you've put him through." They both laughed softly, relieving the emotional moment.

"What about you? What are you going to do?"

* * *

_In the next, final, chapter Jack will answer that question. _


	17. Chapter 17

_And now for the final chapter ..._

* * *

**Phaeton**

Chapter Seventeen

The coffee shop was busy but the sounds of fellow patrons had faded into the distance as Gwen kept her gaze on Jack. He had only come to say goodbye, to leave her once more. For a moment self-pity overwhelmed her until she thought of all she had to keep her grounded here while he had … nothing, just memories of people he had lost. If the tables had been turned she wouldn't want to stay either. As she waited for him to speak, to tell her what he planned for his future, she buried her own disappointment and wished, hoped, he would find some lasting happiness.

"Travel," he said finally. "But before I do, I want to show you something. Come with me."

He pulled her up and led the way to the lifts. She tried to get him tell her where they were going but he merely smiled enigmatically. She contented herself with hanging onto his arm; Jack was a very special man and it was unlikely she would see him again once he left this time. She was going to make the most of her time with him. They got off at the fifth floor and he led her down the corridor and used the key card to open the door to room 516.

"Here we are," he announced, holding open the door for her.

"And there was I thinking we were going to the roof," she joked stepping into the room.

It was a typical hotel room with a small seating area, bed and wardrobe. The large window looked onto the street and there was a glimpse of Cardiff Castle through a gap in the buildings. But the room did not keep her attention for long, that was taken by the man lying propped up on the bed reading a newspaper. Her jaw dropped open in shock.

Anticipating this reaction, Jack grinned as he flung his greatcoat down. "This one insisted on tagging along, wouldn't take no for an answer."

-ooOoo-

_A little earlier and a long way away_

Jack felt strange and familiar at the same time. He was dressed once more in his dark blue trousers and light blue shirt with the braces over his shoulders. He had to check the mirror in _The Phaeton's_ cabin to remind himself what he looked like. With a wry smile and a laugh, he picked up his personal possessions and put them into his pockets. He was strapping on his Webley when the door to the cabin opened and Ianto entered. Jack's breath caught for a moment, the Welshman was wearing his close-fitting black leather outfit.

"Weren't you even going to say goodbye?" asked Ianto, crossing his arms and watching Jack closely.

"I can't get involved with the authorities. Loomis covered a bit … but it'll soon become clear I don't belong here."

"Where do you belong, Jack Harkness? You're no more a 21st century Earther than I am."

"Around. But Cardiff in 2010 is the nearest I have to a home."

Ianto took a step forward. "And something bad happened there, I understood that much. What was it?"

"I lost someone. Someone I … cared about."

"And now you're not in the market for any one else. That's why you're skipping out on me." It was a statement but also a question.

"No, that's not it." Jack looked away, no longer able to meet Ianto's penetrating gaze. "It's complicated."

"You don't feel anything for me. That right?" Ianto moved closer, his gaze fixed unflinchingly on Jack's face, challenging him and demanding answers.

"Wrong! I care a lot for you but …" Jack paused for breath and to search for the right words. "The man I lost, his name was Ianto Jones and he looked a lot like you. That's why I'm here, I'm searching for another Ianto. I've been told that there is one, somewhere, who will be my true love." Jack had said it, everything was out in the open now. He hung his head, staring at his boots not wanting to see Ianto's reaction. When the response came, it was a complete surprise.

"So there's more than one of me … cool." Ianto reached a hand to cup Jack's face and raise it up so he could see the expression. "Am I like the man you lost?"

"To look at. Not otherwise, not really."

"So I'm not your true love?"

"I … I don't know. Maybe. But … even if you wanted to come, I can't rip you away from your life here. You have friends, family … it wouldn't be right."

Ianto laughed shortly. "You're a cocky sod. Who gave you the right to make decisions for me? Besides, you owe me an explanation. I still want to know how you survived that radiation."

"It's a long story."

"Then forget about going anywhere." Ianto paused for effect. "Unless you take me with you."

"You'd come?" asked Jack tentatively. His assumptions were being turned on their head so fast he couldn't keep track. This Ianto was not bothered by what he had heard and was offering to accompany Jack. Could it possibly be true?

"Damn right I would!" He leant forward and gave Jack a deep, penetrating kiss before turning on his heel and heading for the door. When it opened, he reached outside and picked up a small holdall which he slung over his shoulder and came back into the cabin. "Where do we go first?" he asked, one eyebrow raised.

Jack's rollercoaster emotions settled into an overwhelming burst of happiness and sheer joy as he finally realised what he was being offered. Ianto wanted to come with him, had packed his bag and stood ready to leave there and then. No prevarication, no conditions, no arrangements to make, no goodbyes to be said. He was ready to throw his lot in with Jack. It was the answer to all his hopes and dreams.

"Cardiff." Jack grabbed his greatcoat and shrugged it on, the grin on his face reaching from ear to ear. "Hang on."

With Ianto standing behind him, arms round his waist, Jack pressed the buttons on the wand and the two men winked out of that reality.

-ooOoo-

_Here and n__ow_

Gwen stood stock-still not sure she could believe her eyes. Getting up from the bed was … Ianto Jones! He had the same chiselled cheekbones, strong jaw and small nose. His eyes, which were looking from her to Jack and back again, were a deep blue. He was the same height and he moved in the same way. But then she started to notice the differences. Most obvious were the skintight leather trousers and snug white T-shirt and the long curly hair that fell to his collar and was pushed back behind his ears. As she stared, unable to look away or say anything, she noticed a faint scar above one eye.

"This is Gwen," said Jack, standing beside Ianto and putting an arm round his waist. "I expect she'll say hello eventually."

"Going by her reaction, I understand why you wouldn't let me outside." Ianto crossed his arms and leant against Jack familiarly.

"Oh … my ... God, he even sounds the same." Gwen had found her voice at last. She closed the distance between them and tentatively put out a hand to stroke Ianto's cheek. "This is … It's un-fucking-believable!"

"Hands off, he's mine." Jack's arm tightened round Ianto.

"I'm nobody's, Harkness, and don't you forget it." Ianto straightened up and took a pace away from Jack. "This must be pretty strange for you," he said to Gwen.

"Uh huh," she agreed shyly. This man looked so like the Ianto they had lost she itched to hug him but held back. She felt at a distinct disadvantage until she noticed the uncertainty in his stance; maybe he wasn't as confident as he looked. "And you."

"Oh yeah. Strange time, strange place, strange people. And this one's the strangest of the lot." He gestured to Jack who was standing silently watching them. "So, Jack says he's known you for ages … How about you give me the lowdown? He's a secretive so-and-so."

"Tell me about it!" They laughed and turned to look at Jack and saw tears running down his face. "Oh, sweetheart!" Gwen went to Jack and wrapped her arms round him before holding out a hand to Ianto and pulling him into the group hug.

Holding them both, Jack continued to weep. Not usually sentimental, he had been unable to stop the tears when the others had stood together. Reminders of other times had assailed him, along with regrets and the pain of loss but overall he had been happy to see them together if only briefly. Cardiff in 2010 was the one place in the universe that this Ianto Jones could not stay for long; there were too many people – family, friends and acquaintances – who knew the other Ianto. So this was the only time he would stand next to Gwen and the old team - part of it at least - be reunited.

"You two, you mean so much to me," said Jack eventually, kissing the tops of their heads.

"Daft sod," responded Ianto, pulling out of his arms. "Let's have a drink."

The three of them remained in the hotel for the next two hours. Over drinks from the mini-bar they got to know one another better and talked. Ianto found out a bit more about Jack while the latter discovered what had been going on in Cardiff while he had been away. Gwen was told how the two had met and all about _The Phaeton's_ brush with disaster. The two men also told her of their plans to travel the galaxy, bumming lifts on freighters and spaceliners and stopping where and when it suited them.

When Rhys called to find out where she was, Gwen was brought back to the here and now and realised it was time to leave. She had her life in Cardiff and Jack had his life, with this Ianto, among the stars. She didn't want Jack to leave but realised it was inevitable. With fond farewells to Ianto, she left the hotel room with Jack.

As the two walked to the lifts he asked, "So what do you think?"

"About Ianto? He … he's lovely. He's really different to our Ianto, you won't walk all over this one!"

"Huh! I never did!"

"Maybe not, but this one will stick up for himself and tell you when you're wrong. I think that'll do you a lot of good. I'm really pleased you found him and I wish you all the happiness in the world."

"Thanks, Gwen, that means a lot." They had reached the lifts and stood, neither wanting to say their final farewells.

"Now, while I have the chance …" She pulled him in a hug and kissed him, a real smacker on the lips, with tongue. "I've been wanting to do that for the longest time," she admitted when she released him. "Look after yourself, and him."

"I will, long as you promise to leave UNIT. I'll be back to check," he warned with a smile.

Suddenly serious, she said, "I hope so, Jack, I really do. I don't want to think that I'll never see you again."

Unable to promise he would be back in her lifetime, instead he pulled her into a fierce embrace. "Be happy, Gwen Cooper."

"You too."

She disentangled herself from his arms and, tears streaming down her face, blindly got on the waiting lift and pushed the button for the ground floor. Her last sight of him was just before the doors closed. He stood with hands in his trouser pockets and his shirt sleeves rolled up, just as she had seen him most days since they had met.

Jack stayed in the corridor long after the lift had departed. Eventually he returned to room 516 and Ianto Jones. One chapter of his life had ended and another was about to begin.

* * *

_I hope you liked the ending. Thanks for your support and reviews - Jay._


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